Evangelizare Jadid
by Klarkakent
Summary: In the year of Our Lord 1555, an expedition to Greenland unearthed something it should not have. Great tidal waves and massive destruction followed, but there is still life and hope left in the remains of Christian Europe. In 1570, a young man must protect what remains, by piloting the massive beast called Evangelion...
1. The First Duty

_To S. v. Ingolschen_

 _You are needed at the Abtei von Stettin-Drei. A map and directions are attached. Once you get there, you will be greeted by my maidservant at the L_ _ö_ _cknitz Road. She is unmistakable; you shall understand how._

 _Whilst I regret disowning you and sending you to the Military Frontier, it had to be done. That stage in your life is now over. "_ _Qui ostendisti mihi tribulationes plurimas et adflictiones conversus vivificabis nos et de abyssis terrae rursum educes nos"._ (1) _Although even in reference to Croatia that is probably exaggerating a little._

 _Long live the Catholic Emperor Maximilian II, forever August,_

 _Fürstabt G. v. Ingolschen_

Siegfried looked again at the letter. After three weeks on horseback, several ill-advised "shortcuts", and some inns that made him long for the relative comfort and good smell of a stables, he was finally at the outskirts of the "abbey" his father was "abbot" of. In fact, the area was as bustling a city as the original Stettin where he had been in that morning; it definitely was smokier. It was also quite a bit more ramshackle than Stettin; as it was built only after Second Impact it had no cathedral and the wall was little more than a stockade. In his last visit five years ago, Siegfried had found his father and all the monks, nuns, priests, etc. living in a complex of apartments near the Stettin road. So much for apostolic vows of poverty.

Now what? The letter said there would be an "unmistakable" maidservant greeting him at the Löcknitz road. He was there and all the women looked perfectly ordinary. It wasn't his fault; "unmistakable" was a horrible criteria to select people by. All of his friends back in Croatia had looked different to him, but they were a pretty unremarkable lot. Even though he couldn't imagine mistaking one for another (making them by definition unmistakable), an outsider probably wouldn't be able to tell them apart. But the "unmistakable" principle got even wobblier when went through large population centers: there were a _lot_ of people who were _definitely_ unmistakable. In Stettin alone Siegfried had come about at least three people whom he would use "unmistakable" to describe. A man seemingly fatter than he was tall, a dwarf, and a man three heads taller than he with a missing thumb and a gruesomely deformed (or more likely wounded) nose. If they were in a different place and female, he would have approached each one and asked for an audience with his father. That would have been a good way to get mugged or killed.

As Siegfried pondered just how stupid one would have to be to use "unmistakable" as a main descriptor, someone who met precisely that condition approached him. She was on a white horse, riding sidesaddle so as not to stretch her skirts. A red flat cap topped a head of shoulder-length blue (!) hair, and her eyes were a bright red. He blinked, and a young grey-haired man appeared on her horse behind her. He wore rich black clothing and carried a wooden lance. He blinked again, and the man was gone, but the girl was extending her hand to him.

"Siegfried von Ingolschen, is that your name?"

* * *

After a quick greeting and a minute to get back in the saddle, Siegfried was riding through the city with the unmistakable girl at his side. "So," the boy joked, "how did my father tell _you_ how to find me?"

The girl glanced at him as if to say, 'you are a loser who is poor at small talk' and continued looking straight ahead.

"He is utterly mistakable and can be lost in any group of five or more; you shall understand how?" Siegfried prompted her.

"Why would he do that? It would seem like a bad way to describe someone."

"He described you as 'unmistakable'."

The girl looked up and mused, "Yes, I could see why someone might use that term to describe myself."

"But there are so many other unmistakable people!" the boy protested. Either the girl was dense beyond belief, or she was putting on an act for her own purposes, be they mockery or to get silence. He had to find out.

"Yes. Still, I have never been mistaken for anyone else, and my description was suitable enough for you to find me, was it not?" Evidently she would take some prying; he very much doubted that the blue-haired girl was truly missing so much of what he was saying.

Ten minutes later, Siegfried attempted to start the conversation again. "So, are Gerhard and the others still in that block of apartments?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Seems like a weird place for an order of monks to use as a headquarters."

That got her attention. "The Military Order of St. Gerbert of Aurillac is not an ordinary monastic order or even a military order; it is engaged in the defense of Christendom. If not for our efforts, humanity will be destroyed," she recited ardently.

Siegfried was taken aback. This girl was tight with the tongue, but evidently she was quite attached to the Order. The 'humanity will be destroyed' was certainly something he had never heard. He hadn't seen anything 'humanity-saving' in his last (brief) visit five years ago. Just a bunch of decadent monks and nuns running around and taking up all of Gerhard's time. This he would have to ask his father about. "I'm sorry," he said. He expected an 'Oh, it was nothing' or 'don't apologize', but all he got out of the girl was a reprieve from her gaze as she looked forwards again. Was this how maids were supposed to act? As a nobleman Siegfried felt like he should know, but his guardians (two old childless Croatian serfs who didn't even know of Gerhard before he sent them himself and a small stipend) were not nearly rich enough to have servants, and whenever officers came to the village that he was probably the heir to, they treated him as another peasant to carry equipment. (2) He decided to follow the maid's example and took a look at the scenery surrounding him.

The street was quite a bit wider than in most cities Siegfried had been to; he chalked that up to the recent construction. The half-timber houses all looked identical, but something still looked familiar about them. He shouted, "Hey! Miss! We just passed my father's building!"

Many people in the street turned their heads to the commotion, but not the girl. "It is not necessary to go in there."

"He's not busy, is he!? I traveled three weeks to meet the wretch, and if he doesn't want to meet me you can tell him I'll be back in Croatia!"

The maid stopped the horse. "However, I believe we should leave the horses here." She hitched hers to a post, then did the same with Siegfried's. "We'll run."

* * *

After what must have been at least three miles of running, Siegfried was exhausted. Not the girl, though. She looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat, despite layers of thick clothing and the hot summer sun. They had left the town after a mile, and spent the next two making way to this forested hill they were at. Interestingly, the area was forested for miles even though the rest of the Pomeranian countryside the boy had seen was practically de-treed with a blanket of farmland and pasture replacing it. They went through a large and wide passage into the hill, and it was obvious that the place was very well-used. The passage was walled, ceilinged, floored, and reinforced with plenty of lumber frames and a line of wide pillars supporting the frames at the middle. After not too long they went through a door in an unhewn rock wall, and entered an absolutely mammoth cavern.

The cavern must have been miles across; the other side was over the horizon. There were a few buildings on the near side, but most of the cavern was a grassy plain with a few lakes. He could not fathom the sheer height of the ceiling; it was so high that it could have been a whole new sky. Even more amazingly, through some trick of architecture or miracle of God it was as bright as the daylight sky.

Closer to Siegfried was the expectant figure of a monk in the red-orange (3) doublet and hosen the Order used as its habit. "Thank you, Reidun," he said. "So you're the Abbot's son, right?" He held out his hand.

Siegfried took his hand and shook it. As he was tired, he propped himself up on the monk's arm as he shook. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's nothing. It's hot out there today, I know," said the monk. Cheerily he continued, "By the way, my name's Marcellus Herzener. We'll be working a lot together, young man."

The three went off, Marcellus in the lead, Reidun following slightly behind and to the left, and Siegfried ambling behind. The straggler was somewhat concerned at the things he had witnessed in the last hour. First, he had met a girl with blue hair, red eyes, and seemingly an infinite stamina. And now… this. He had been there only five years ago, and he had not seen anything remotely like this cave. Although that could have been because his father had largely confined him to a spare room in his apartment during that time. It definitely was at least under construction five years ago. Nothing this size could be built in five years, hell, maybe not even in fifty. The ceiling alone must have been an architectural masterwork to let the whole _underground_ area be illuminated by sunlight. Marcellus was going to be working with him 'a lot', so he could be here for months. Never mind what 'work' could mean. Any opportunity to stay in the vicinity could help him understand some perturbing questions.

* * *

Marcellus was also more than a little perturbed, but with more practical matters. Gerhard had told him that there would likely be an attack that day, and that he needed to be ready to sortie his son in the Evangelion. But how would they be attacked? For whatever reason Gerhard refused to tell beyond hinting that the Evas were somehow the best weapon against whatever it would be. He claimed ignorance, but predicting the date of an attack (in this current age of peace in the Reich) without knowing anything else about it was… inconceivable, either superstition or a lie. Marcellus was betting on superstition (he had heard the Abbot was very interested in astrology), but he wouldn't have bet very much money on it.

In any case, the best course of action would be to get the boy prepared to sortie the EVA if an attack occurred. That too posed a problem, as said Child was five days late. It was already after noon now, so at the most there would be a few hours to get some brief training in. Why had he been chosen to do this deed again? This deed which reeked with heresy and witchcraft, with this "monastic" order so clearly devoted more to the Emperor than the Pope?

 _Don't think about it_ , said his mind. In fact, Marcellus did not want to know why. The reason for this was that he was following Gerhard's orders because he had been ordered to by someone else: a teacher, a friend.

 _The man who saved my soul._

He pictured him standing with Gerhard, a scene which probably did happen at some point as he had told Marcellus that they had met personally. They were shaking hands, Gerhard dropping into Latin with every other sentence and his mentor laughing… No! He couldn't bring himself to associate the two, and he knew it. That's why he quickly forced his mind back onto the Children.

Reidun was supposed to be suited for piloting an Evangelion, but shortly before he had arrived her EVA, the _Trent_ , had been severely damaged for reasons he had not been told of. He had seen the damaged beast, though. It was horrifically damaged, with large chunks of flesh just missing (although there were no signs that it had bled any). In the arms and legs some of the bones were visible, and the hands and feet were missing. How she had gotten the thing that mangled (in a "training accident", as the girl had told him) was a mystery and also something he didn't want to think about. He had already gotten over the pilot being female, as she was also inhumanly hardworking, tireless, and (it was probable this factor was the most important) completely dedicated to the Abbot.

Yes, she was definitely more suited to piloting the "Evangelion" beast than this new boy. There was nothing particularly distinct that separated him from an ordinary Croatian peasant, besides of course being the abbot's son. But now he was somehow to train him into a soldier capable of defeating a threat "that would be best handled by the Evangelions" within the space of a few hours. It boggled the mind. Marcellus sighed and continued to the EVAs. Hopefully the attack would not come whilst they were walking through this humongous chamber.

* * *

"Kurac!" Siegfried yelled, startling his companions. There was actually a perfectly good reason why he broke out into curses in front of a monk and a girl. In front of him, gazing into his soul, was the head of the Devil. A slightly closer examination revealed it to be a massive (easily over 100 feet tall) humanoid beast lying in a pit, and some common sense told him that even the most decadent monastery wouldn't be hiding the devil on their grounds. Only the head was above surface, but the pit was lit by torchlight and allowed him to see down to its feet. The muscles of an athlete or wild animal rippled underneath its skin, and a great red sphere shone ensconced in its solar plexus. Two green eyes glimmered on opposite sides of a narrow, almost grouper-like face that ended in a Habsburg jaw and an equally large protrusion between the eyes which ended in a bird-like bone mask. Thick ropes and metal chains tied it in position, but it was obvious that they would be just air to the beast if it tried to escape. "What in hell is that thing?"

Marcellus pointed to the beast. "That, Siegfried, is an Evangelion. Your father's project. You'll be the pilot."

Siegfried's fear of the beast, earlier receding after the initial shock, spiked. He began to tremble and stammered out a question. "M-me? But… why?"

"You're the only one who can pilot this thing," Marcellus said.

"No! There must be someone else!"

Marcellus laid his hand on the boy's shoulder took an authoritative tone. "Look, Siegfried. No, there is no one else. You are the only one who can pilot the Evangelion. Reidun will help you into it. Okay?" He smiled.

"What about you? Why don't you pilot it?" the boy asked hysterically.

Marcellus let slip a slight frown. Why couldn't he pilot the Evangelion? Like so many other things, he didn't know. But according to Gerhard, each Evangelion had only one Child in the world that could pilot it. There was also a small segment of the population that could control one as long as they took no movements with the EVA, but they were useless for actual piloting as had proven by several tests gone horribly wrong. "Well I, uh," he stuttered to buy time for an actual response. "Your dad said that you are the only one."

"Gerhard?" the boy asked, his expression shifting from scared out of his mind and confused to confused and inquisitive. Then it shifted to anger. "Where is he? He said he wanted to meet me!"

Soothingly, Marcellus said, "Now, I'm sure he'll get here eventually. Reidun, could you show Siegfried the Entry Wound?

"Yes, sir," said Reidun.

Siegfried mumbled, "No, he said I was needed here…" He froze. This was entirely what he was called here for! No, Gerhard didn't want to meet him, he just wanted him in the area! Had he ever spent more than the bare minimum of time with him five years ago? No, he hadn't! And now, this monk would be the closest thing he would get, the Vicar of Gerhard in the general vicinity of Siegfried von Ingolschen. He probably wasn't even in the cave.

Reidun continued, "Will he be moving in the Evangelion?"

"I won't pilot it!" Siegfried yelled. Taking off rapidly, he made for where he had come in. Although it was at least a mile away, it was better than nothing, and better than being forced to pilot that demon his father had stored in this secret base.

"Come back!" Marcellus shouted. Reidun immediately ran off after him, steadily closing in. When she got to within a few feet, she dove, wrapping her arms around his waist. Siegfried went down, his face landing in the subterranean grass. Reidun scooped him up, carried him to Marcellus on her shoulder, and deposited him at the monk's feet.

Siegfried's head hurt. _Why did I think this was a good idea? And people will hear of this, too; I don't fancy explaining this to my father._

"Good job, Reidun," Marcellus commented. "Now, Siegfried. Will you pilot the Evangelion?"

Siegfried lay, silent. No, he would not. Although it looked like he couldn't in fact escape this location, still no one could force him to do such a thing as pilot the Evangelion. In fact, even he couldn't force himself to pilot the Evangelion, as he didn't know how to.

Marcellus decided to take a slightly harder approach. "Your father will not want to see someone who refuses to execute his Christian duty and runs away, only to be beaten effortlessly by a girl his own age," he observed.

Still Siegfried refused to move. _Oh, yes, I was utterly humiliated by a girl my own age. My talk with Gerhard will be so fascinating. Definitely worth the saddle sores._ After a minute, he said, "Christian duty?"

"Yes, your duty." Marcellus slipped into full homily. "With this Evangelion, we will defend Christendom from what threatens it. You are the only one who can pilot the EVA, so it's your duty to do so. Martyrs are good for the faith, but each one is still a tragedy. With that beast, you can minimize the number of martyrs Christianity will suffer in the next few decades."

"Yes…," Siegfried admitted. Defeated, he stood. "I'll pilot the Evangelion."

"Very good," said Marcellus. "Now show him into the Entry Wound, Reidun."

The blue haired girl wrapped her arm around his back and gently pushed him towards the beast. Just when he began to fear she would toss him into the mouth, they circled around the pit, revealing a structure bridging the Evangelion's lower neck and the back of the pit. Although most of the system was hidden beneath the Eva's cape, it was capable of withdrawing from the precipice by sliding back on rails. The two entered the structure, and Siegfried saw what had been meant by "Entry Wound".

In the middle of the structure, a curtain had been parted to reveal a human-height tunnel into the Evangelion's upper vertebrae. Even though most of the tunnel was covered in red-brown scabs, some parts, especially those on the bottom, were oozing blood. Occasionally, some dripped down from the top. The passage was dark, and the end was barely visible. Although the blood and flesh of the Evangelion did have a detectable smell, they were far overpowered by a strong smell of brine overlaid with alcohol.

As he progressed through the Wound, the air grew steadily damper, the brine-alcohol-scent grew steadily stronger, and more blood appeared to be oozing from the walls and floor. Eventually, they came to the chamber the Wound ended at. Although the room was dark, a pool of pale-crimson blood emitting alcoholic fumes was visible at the bottom. The ceiling was dripping white-tinged saltwater. In the center was a slightly deformed smooth pillar. Reidun laid her palm on his back, freezing him, and wrapped a copper-coated phylactery onto his forehead. Siegfried stepped into the ankle-deep blood, and Reidun followed.

"We should make this quick," Reidun suggested as her hand nudged Siegfried forward. To the pillar she commanded, "Kenneth Adelton, the new Child is here. You can get out now." On her command, a hand emerged from the column, followed by a forearm, a dirty-blonde scalp, and then a full scrawny, gasping body. He was wearing nothing except for breeches and a phylactery, similar to the one he was wearing.

"Good morning… Siegfried von Ingolschen, is it?" Kenneth asked eagerly. Siegfried wondered what he was so eager about; he only felt fear, pressure, and steadily increasing tipsiness from the alcohol fumes. They shook hands. At least the alcohol was blocking out the fear, if not quickly enough. While he supposed in normal circumstances he would be quite impressed by a man (or boy about his age, as it seemed) appearing from a pillar, he was much more concerned by his own impending demise and how the pillar would play a role in it. There were really so many options that he couldn't focus on one. To narrow down the list, he would have to have a better idea of what the pillar was. After all, if the pillar was soft he wouldn't have to worry about Reidun bashing his face into the pillar until he stopped moving, but he would have to worry about her suffocating him in a similar way. He touched the pillar, which was _wet_. It wasn't merely damp, but made of stagnant liquid. It wasn't blending with the pool of blood underneath it, and there was no current. He idly pondered how this pillar could be used to kill him, but his thoughts were interrupted by a low, deafening, moan.

The room shook and tilted, throwing the pool of blood out the tunnel. The three children narrowly escaped the same fate, landing against a fleshy wall. "It's going berserk!" Kenneth screamed. Siegfried supposed that was bad, but really he had no idea what was going on and didn't care. He was too dizzy to move, and his eyes hurt from having the blood splashed in his face. Closing them just made it worse, so he lay waiting for the room to stop flashing pain into his eyes.

"Siegfried, get up," said Reidun. She had landed gracefully on her feet, and was pulling at his arm. _She's pretty cute, for being covered in blood._

Kenneth was still cringing on the new floor. "Reidun, how do we stop this?" he asked panickedly.

"The Evangelion will keep rampaging while it is not piloted. We should get Siegfried into the Cord. Grab his other hand."

Kenneth got up, still shivering. He and Reidun pulled Siegfried to his feet, just in time for the room to shift back upright, this time with a massive thrust slamming them down to the floor. Kenneth landed first, and Siegfried on him, and Reidun on him in turn. The boy that had been in the Evangelion's Cord just a few moments ago screamed and passed out.

* * *

The _Wien_ , the 2nd Evangelion, was going berserk. The bells were ringing the _Berserk Evangelion_ pattern, and the few people who had gathered to watch the activation were running in panic. Precisely one minute ago, and not much longer after Reidun and Siegfried disappeared behind the beast, it had started moaning and shaking. In a short time, it burst through the ropes restraining the torso, and a minute later it stood up, shredding the ropes on the legs as well. Bells were ringing, everybody was running, but Marcellus couldn't help but gawk at the Evangelion. It was so big, such a commanding presence. Seeing the mutilated remnants of the _Trent_ had not been preparation enough for the sight of the moving, unblemished that moment, Marcellus knew he was fated to die. _My sins are behind me, o God, if you call me I shall come._

* * *

Reidun recovered first, and pulled Siegfried up by his armpits. "Siegfried, only you can stop the EVA," she said urgently, "Concentrate on that." With that, she slammed the dazed Child into the pillar of liquid.

Siegfried was too surprised to react, and his hyperventilating lungs quickly filled with the cord's fluid. He flailed about in the liquid, trying to get out of the cord, but whenever he tried to move in one direction the cord re-centered on him. He soon found that he could breathe in the fluid, but that didn't allay his paranoia. The orange liquid was still a hopeless prison, where meaningful movement was impossible. _I'm never going to get out of here. I'll die…_ His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Siegfried, are you doing all right?"

 _I mustn't embarrass myself more!_

"Yes. I'm… okay now. What do you want me to do now?" he moaned.

"Concentrate on the Evangelion. Block out all thoughts and think of being the Evangelion," the girl instructed.

Despite the fact that Siegfried was still half-convinced the girl was going to kill him, the voice was calming. The orange fluid was washing the alcoholic blood out of his eyes, which also helped. He closed his eyes, and pictured in his mind the beast that he had seen earlier. The presence felt _familiar_ , which was disturbing yet also comforting. The boy opened his eyes and saw the grassy cavern landscape. It was beautiful. The height gave him a feeling of control, and the fact the room had stopped shaking eased his nerves quite a bit. "OK, I'm seeing… what the EVA sees? I don't know," he chuckled.

"Get out of the pit." Because he was seeing from the EVA's eyes, Reidun sounded like a voice in his head. _Guess I'll have to do what she says then_ , he chuckled under his Evangelion had already been stepping out of the pit, so it was simple to complete the motion. After that was walking. After two steps he fell down, eliciting a moan from Kenneth as the bottom of the room turned into a side for the third time that day.

"I suggest we go back," Reidun commanded. _And I dug myself even deeper into that hole. I'm hopeless…_ At this point, Siegfried had essentially no choice whether to obey her or not. The more he stayed in this beast with her, the more he would embarrass himself by screwing up or requiring instruction from a girl his own age. He did want to stay in the thing a bit longer, but thanks to his own… _Stupidity! Relentless stupidity!_ it would be impossible to do so. He went back over to the pit and lowered himself in. Only once he got in did he realize he'd done so sideways. A sharp clockwise scoot rectified the situation (hopefully the girl hadn't noticed).

* * *

Reidun exited the Evangelion, taking Kenneth with her in a fireman's carry. Siegfried was staying back in the EVA. Marcellus was waiting in the Evangelion's outbuilding, so she informed him on the incident with the berserking EVA. It was useful to explain it while it was still fresh in her mind; this way it would be easier to explain to Gerhard later. Kenneth needed medical attention, so she went next to the hospital. A half-mile into her trek it occurred to her that the base was perhaps a bit too large, but it was the construction of God, not man. Who was she to question God's will? A reason for His decision would arise, she was sure.

Half an hour later, she dropped Kenneth at the hospital. As the monks hurried to the Reserve Child's barely-conscious body, she looked back at the Evangelion pits. Although it was far away, the 160-foot tall creature was easy to see. It had apparently mastered walking and was making slow, experimental jabs with an EVA-scale poleaxe.

 _ **DING, DONG, DING, DONG, DINGDONGDINGDONG, DING, DONG**_

It was the warning for an attack.

* * *

Siegfried heard the bells too, but had no idea what they meant. However everyone near the Evangelion was running in various directions, so he assumed it was important for him as well. He poked his head out of the liquid orange column to ask Marcellus what the bells meant, but was immediately informed.

"We're under attack!" _Attack from what?_ There wasn't anyone especially hostile to the Reich in the immediate vicinity. No, scratch that, the area was surrounded by hostile powers, but the Poles were too weak to attack, the Protestants had been quiet for the last few years, and the Danes and Swedes probably couldn't arrange an invasion fleet without the news becoming common knowledge.

"Let's get out of the Geofront and see what's coming," Marcellus said. The beast's controller was apprehensive, but thinking around the same thing. There was no way the Protestants could have something that matched up. Simply no way, although as he thought about it the possibility became more real. He disappeared back into the Cord.

* * *

Marcellus was both ecstatic and intensely worried. On one hand, he was glad to finally have an idea of what the Evangelions were to face. On the other, the idea of being unsecured in the middle of the EVA (if Reidun was correct in her report, this would be very dangerous) did not seem like a good idea. He resolved to take a good look at the thing, help the pilot make a plan if necessary, and make his way to safety.

Siegfried's face briefly appeared from the Cord. "We're going through the tunnel!" Marcellus crouched on the floor, next to the front wall. Gravity shifted and laid him out against it, but he was fine by the time the EVA stood up again on the outside. The beast walked on the road for a while, undoubtedly scaring the living daylights out of any bystanders in the vicinity. And then it frose.

Marcellus practically dove into the Cord; the orange liquid soon shifted into the image that Siegfried and the Eva saw. Immediately he understood why the Evangelion could no longer move. The creature was wading in from the sea, quickly gaining height as it approached the coast. It somewhat resembled a bird, if the bird walked upright, had arms, didn't have feathers, had ridiculously broad boney-padded shoulders, and had a glowing red ball on its torso. No, it didn't look particularly like a bird, but it still somehow reminded him of one. It was emerging somewhere past Stettin-Drei; hopefully the battle wouldn't be within the city. As he pondered the coming battle, the Eva turned away.

They were moving away from the fight; they were _running_ …. This wasn't right at all. He grabbed the pilot by the arms. "What are you doing?" he shouted.

"Did you see that thing?" the pilot babbled. "I… I can't…," he trailed off. They had stopped moving.

"You see that, up there?" Marcellus pointed to a point midway up the mountain the base was located under, a bare overlook that stood out among the trees that covered most of the mount. "That's Gerhard." In the Cord of the Evangelion it was possible to see in much greater detail than the size of the thing would suggest, and Siegfried saw what Marcellus saw. Gerhard was indeed there, and his spyglass was pointing at them. "You don't want to run away with your own father watching, do you?" The boy was fixated intensely on the figure viewing them from the mountaintop. "I don't think he'd want anything to do with you if you did such a thing. In fact, he might even come to hate you, and send you back to Croatia and never see you again…." They both winced at the last part. _I'm still so cruel when I need to be… what would I do if I was him?_ No, he was not to think about being younger again. It was a path nothing good could come out of; best to focus on the battle. But at least Siegfried seemed to have finally gotten out of his funk. He'd turned around, picked up his poleaxe, and was now advancing towards the birdlike monster. Did that end justify his means? The monk shook his head.

"Here's the plan. Try to get that thing to go around the city, or intercept it before it gets there. Try to kill it, but if you can't do it come back to base. Now let me out." He slid back into the chamber and braced as the beast crouched to bring the Entry Wound closer to the ground. Once it was down all the way he leapt out, racing to the top of the mountain.

* * *

Siegfried brought his Evangelion back to its feet. The monster had now fully emerged from the water and was much closer to Stettin-Drei than he was. There was no chance of intercepting it before it got there, and it would probably go through the city before it got to him. He'd had a plan. The idea was to hide in the forest and ambush the monster when it got near. It could have used a bit more refining, and dropping the poleaxe was embarrassing, but it was still better than plan "Fight and Die Like a Good Christian Son". _Well, if you had such a good plan, why didn't you tell Marcellus?_ He sighed.

At least the thing was avoiding the city. Until a tiny ball of lead hit it in its back. Its eyes flashed, and the poor bastards who shot it (and everyone in the same block) were met with an enormous cross-shaped explosion. More shots rang from the perimeters of the city. It seemed the militia had gathered at the stockade, using its wall-pieces (4) and a few rifled muskets to tap it from extreme range. Those with pikes or muskets were cowering behind the stockades; whether they were waiting for it to get closer or hoping for it to leave was uncertain. They never saw it do either, for its eyes flashed three more times in quick succession and the manned sections of the stockades were blown to bits by cross-shaped explosions. For the next forever it just stood there, daring all to come and try harder to kill it. Siegfried did not take it up on its offer, preferring to sit on the road with his poleaxe braced to defend himself. After two minutes it got heavy, and he jammed the butt-spike into the ground to reduce the weight.

Ten minutes after it demolished the Stettin-Drei militia, the sea monster began moving again, this time towards Siegfried. He took a subtle backwards step, deepening his stance, and then another one with his front foot…

The sea monster's eyes flashed, they were staring right at him and their brightness fixated him and blinded him a little…

FWOOM! A flaming cross sprouted immediately behind him, roasting his back and sending him sprawling to the ground. He caught his fall, saw the monster's eyes flash again, and immediately rolled to the left, dodging another flaming cross where he had been. Siegfried broke into a sprint, aiming to quickly close the two miles between him and the monster. He trampled trees as he ran; they were little more than shrubbery to the Evangelion. Still, they slowed him down enough for the sea monster to target him. The eyes flashed once and a cross appeared in the middle of his path, forcing him to dodge. Then they strobed for ten seconds, carving a line of miniature cross explosions through the forest. The line arced towards him, forcing him to weave and dodge out of its path. Just when it seemed the crosses had stopped sprouting, one burst from his foot.

It left a wide hole in the balls of his feet, stabbing him again each time he took a step. Siegfried limped forward, poleaxe in front. Fortunately the heat of the explosion had cauterized the wound. He was just a few hundred feet from the creature; that was nothing in an Evangelion. He felt what the EVA felt; it illuminated the insides of his left foot with pain. He glanced back at the slope Gerhard was watching from. There were more people there now. A blonde woman, carefully reading a scroll. Two brunettes, one male and one female but each with the same hair length, holding more scrolls and peering at the blonde woman's. Gerhard of course, his eyes half on him and half on the scroll. A grey-haired man, focused on the monster. All were in the St. Gerbert's red-orange habit that looked more like peasant dress than what any real monk or nun would wear. Marcellus was climbing up the face of the clearing; it was frankly amazing that he had gotten up that far in only ten or fifteen minutes. And next to Gerhard, spyglass to her eye, was Reidun. Siegfried lofted the poleaxe to shoulder height.

He took one step closer to the sea monster, with his right foot. Then he followed with his left. Pain. A few more steps, and he was within range. Siegfried thrust with the spear end of the poleaxe, right into the sea creature's face. And then just a few feet from that bony bird-mask, it was blocked by a series of concentric octagons. He drew it back and thrust again at its stomach, with the same results. Then, to strike with the axehead, he brought the weapon over his head.

The sea monster moved for the first time in minutes. It rushed into the Evangelion, wrapping one arm around its torso and holding its head in the other's hand. Siegfried desperately attempted to elbow its head, but the octagons got in his way each time. Spikes of light protruded from the palms of the monster's three-fingered hands, opening a hole in his side and shattering the Evangelion's upper jaw. Sachiel proceeded to slowly drag the spike of light down his face, carving through teeth and bones. Siegfried screamed and brought his elbow down again on the thing's head, to no avail. Then he brought down the poleaxe. The sea monster screamed as the butt-spike avoided the AT-field still holding off the Evangelion's elbow, broke its skin right above its shoulder blades, and plunged deep into its torso, coming out below the shining red sphere ensconced in its external ribcage. It leaped away from the Evangelion, cutting a deep gash in its back with its spike of light.

With the sea monster a bit farther away, Siegfried assessed the fight so far. On one hand, the monster certainly didn't seem pleased to have his poleaxe running parallel to its spine. A stream of blood was running along the butt of the poleaxe, giving the impression that it was pissing blood from the spike. On the other hand, he was gushing blood from his back and face, and didn't have his weapon anymore. The pain was receding, but a throbbing ache was setting in for his torn-up jaw. He looked at Sachiel again. The sea monster was frantically pulling out the poleaxe, raising the axe-head like a flag a few feet with each pull, gushing blood from the exit wound now that the shaft wasn't plugging the hole. Siegfried knew it was the best time he would ever have to strike, but he found he couldn't move. His body, wearied by his Evangelion's massive injuries and enormous fatigue, simply refused, and he lay in wait for it to come and finish him off. Immediately after the entire poleaxe was extricated, the sea monster obliged.

Siegfried shoved his arms in front of him, hoping to hold the monster at a distance. Sachiel grabbed the Evangelion's arms, entering a shoving match as the two giants tried to push the other over. The monster slid its arms to the inside of the Evangelion's, gripping tightly to the inside of its elbows. Then it activated its spikes of light. They tore through the blood vessels and soft tissue of the joints, making Siegfried release Sachiel's arms with a scream. The sea monster put its hand back on the EVA's jaw, jamming it into the giant's mouth. It activated its spike of light again, impaling its tongue. As the Evangelion opened its mouth with shock, Sachiel deactivated the spike and shoved its hand further in. Siegfried gagged on its claws. Then it reactivated the spike, carving the EVA's left mandible from the skull. Siegfried opened his mouth wide in shock (no noise save a soft gurgle came out) and passed out.

* * *

(1) Psalms 71:20

(2) After the collapse of the Apostolic Kingdom of Hungary following the battle of Mohács, Hungary and Croatia were contested by the Habsburgs and the Zápolyas, who were supported by the Ottomans. For over a century, the Ottomans launched cross-border raids into Habsburg lands, even in times of piece. To counter these raids, the Habsburgs set up a military frontier in Croatia, Slavonia, and Slovakia. These lands were divided into captaincies, each of which was funded by a part of the Habsburg crownlands (Croatia and Slavonia by Upper Austria and Slovakia by Bohemia). These captaincies built fortifications and maintained troops to thwart the Ottoman raids. In order to keep the Croatian economy going through a hundred years of war-like conditions, the Habsburgs offered land and freeman status to people who settled there, in exchange for military service. These _Grenzers_ (mostly refugees from the Ottoman-held Balkans but including some Germans) often served in Habsburg campaigns far from the Balkans, and became a well-respected branch of the Austrian armies.

(3) Wall Pieces were large muskets often used in Early Modern and Napoleonic fortifications. Due to their large size (usually around 140 cm barrels and 2.5 cm bore) they had a much larger effective range than regular muskets. George Washington reported that his could hit a sheet of paper from 550 meters away, an impressive feat in the age of line infantry.


	2. The Duke of Zheng

_25 September, 1570_

 _To Fürstabt Gerhard von Ingolschen_

 _When a very large project is undertaken, at all steps there must be oversight. For this purpose I have spent the last week (travel can be unreliable in the eastern Reich these days, so I set out to arrive well before the prophesied date of the attack) in old Stettin. During the attack, I watched the Wien and Sachiel from the roof of a tall building with a spyglass. With a few minor caveats, I am entirely pleased with the result of our funds and your labor. Such caveats include:_

 _• Initially the_ Wien _appeared to execute a retreat. But this retreat did not appear to play into any sort of strategy._

 _• Only the_ Wien _was sortied, rather than both the_ Wien _and the_ Trent _. I was under the impression that controlling two Evangelions rather than one from the Stettin-Drei base would allow us to outnumber the singular attacks of the beasts rather than resort to one-on-one contests of strength and finesse. Why is this not the case? Is something wrong with the pilotess of the_ Trent _?_

 _• The Evangelion was slow to engage and allowed the beast Sachiel to make attacks on the city of Stettin-Drei, causing unnecessary damage._

 _• The townspeople appear to be calling these beasts "Angels". Unacceptable. Such terminology implies that God has sent them to punish the people of the Stettin area – which not only would include many of us, but could also let loose a round of ruthless and possibly bloody recriminations among the religious sects of Pomerania. As the highest ranking of our men in Pomerania, you will be put in charge of an outreach attempt to correct this error._

 _I will be coming to Stettin-Drei in a few days to meet with you more personally. Ugo and Nikita will also be attending, although I regret none else of our colleagues are in the area._

 _From Wilhelm V von der Marck, Herzog von Jülich-Cleves-Berg-Geldern_ (1)

* * *

Siegfried woke to an unfamiliar ceiling. The stone it was made from handily distinguished it from the ones in his home in Croatia or any of the inns from there to Stettin. He turned in his bed to further view his surroundings. Seeing Marcellus, sitting in a chair and reading a book, the boy seriously considered going back to sleep, but before he could get back in a comfortable position the monk noticed him.

"You're up! Are you well?" Marcellus asked.

"No, but I'll manage…," Siegfried said. "Wait, what am I doing here?" The last thing he remembered was the sea monster removing his jaw from his face, and the connection between that situation and his current one was not entirely clear. He sat up, only to receive a bone-jarring slap on the back from Marcellus.

"You did great, boy," the monk gushed. "That thing won't be coming back!"

"I killed it…?" He was still shivering a little.

"Yes, and in a spectacular fashion. Do you not remember?"

Siegfried racked his brains. "Eh… some of it."

"Hm," Marcellus grunted, "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Up to the part where it carved my jaw off." Siegfried's head hurt from all the recollection, and his eyes still wanted to be closed. He lay back down.

Marcellus dragged him back up. "Hey, this isn't the time to sleep! You have a lot to do!" he exclaimed. "Gerhard wanted to meet with you as soon as you got back up. Also, you have a meeting with Sister Acquisto, and after that you really should meet the other Children. You've been out for two days; a lot has gone on."

"Two days?" Siegfried shouted. He wiped the dust from his eyes and removed the sheets. Marcellus helped him to his feet, and the two left the room.

They left the small building that served as a hospital and started walking to Gerhard's office. Fortunately, most of the buildings were concentrated near the entrance of the GeoFront, so the journey was not as long as it might have been. "So, I got to the lookout just around when the Angel tore the Evangelion's jaw off," Marcellus said.

"Angel?" questioned Siegfried.

"Sorry, my tongue slipped. That's what everyone's calling the things. It's not theologically correct and the Abbot's been trying to make people stop using the term, but I've got the feeling that it's a losing battle," Marcellus said.

"And what happened after that?" Siegfried asked, hoping to get back on topic.

Marcellus was (perhaps overly) happy to explain. "The Wien grabbed the angel's arm that was in it throat and broke it off. Then the angel put up the octagon field again, but the EVA ripped it apart! It stepped through the hole in the octagon field, and dug the red jewel out of its chest." He pantomimed digging out the Angel's core. "The angel was powerless against the Wien; it just broke all the ribs and stuck its hands in there without even noticing the angel's attacks. Then it beat on the jewel until it shattered. After that the angel stopped moving. I should take you to see the corpse."

Siegfried shuddered. "Oh, don't worry. I've seen worse," said the monk.

After a brief pause to let that thread of conversation expire, Siegfried spoke. "Hm, but I don't recall any of that," he said. His feelings on the Evangelion's victory were mixed. On one hand, he felt like taking credit. On the other hand, Marcellus probably had already discerned that he wasn't responsible.

"Interesting. You should tell Acquisto," said Marcellus. The two entered the main building in the GeoFront and ascended a flight of stairs. From there it was only a few paces to the abbot's office. They opened the door and walked in.

The office was enormous, but at the same time constricting. Most of the space of the room was taken up by a series of massive tables, with only narrow walking room between them. They displayed family trees, strange designs, and all manner of texts, all held open with weights for viewing. There was only a dozen by five feet of truly open space in this room, on which were a carpet leading up to the abbot's desk. A few paintings, in the styles of the half-sunken Low Countries, adorned the walls. They all either depicted enclosed spaces or were portraits. Light came in from an open roof, but due to the alignment and placing of the room, the wall of the hollow mountain was clearly visible from the entrance and appeared as a ceiling. Even though the room was well-lit, it still seemed gloomy due to the subdued and murky colors of the walls. The abbot's desk followed this pattern; it was such a dark brown that the intricate carvings could not be seen well. Leaning on the front of the desk was the abbot himself, full beard disguising his thin features. Reidun, wearing a black shawl to match the room, sat at a table, notepad and pen and inkwell in front of her. She wrote what Gerhard spoke.

"In addition, terminology should be established regarding–," Gerhard said. He stopped dictating as Marcellus shut the door behind him.

"Oh, hello," Gerhard addressed them. "Reidun, two chairs." The girl left the room, leaving her shawl on the door as she did so.

Siegfried was the first to break the silence. "…Father," he said. The abbot tented his fingers and sighed. A few seconds later, Reidun came back in the room with the two chairs. She set them behind Marcellus and Siegfried and took her seat at her table, shawl back on her head.

"Siegfried," Gerhard said. "We have much to talk about." The room remained silent for the next few seconds. "To start, you should not call me your father."

"But why?" the boy sputtered.

Gerhard explained, "For the same reasons why I am not. As a clergyman, I am not allowed to have biological children. If it were to get out that you are my son, people would object, and I can't have that. Thus, while you are here you will pretend to be a mere cousin. Second cousin, once removed." The abbot frowned. "Marcellus, judging by your expression you need to either say something or retire to the latrine. Speak, lest you dirty the floor," he said.

"I've, ah, told several people already that you're his father," Marcellus apologized.

Gerhard face-palmed. "I knew I smelled a leak." As Marcellus grumbled, he continued. "Track down the people you told and tell them to keep it covered or convince them you were lying. If they've already told more people, track those people down. As for you," Gerhard shifted back to Siegfried, "you should still go with 'second cousin'."

"Am I not your son?" Siegfried protested. "Is keeping some, some … pact to following all the rules as strictly as possible … is that more important to you than your own son? I may not have had a good education, but isn't that un-christian?"

Gerhard conceded, "I'll consider acknowledging you later, if all goes according to plan. But why do you care so much? I am providing for you as well as I would if I could acknowledge you."

"So fatherhood means nothing more than provision?" Siegfried said.

"For years I have spent all my waking hours occupied with matters of great importance. This façade will not change the amount of time I have to spend with you," said Gerhard.

Marcellus interjected, "Well, what about inheritance?"

"So fatherhood means nothing more than provision?" Gerhard replied. "Surely passing property to the next generation isn't the most important aspect of parenthood. I doubt inheritance will be a problem anyway in our case; I'm broke." Marcellus gave a small, guilty chuckle, but Siegfried wasn't moved.

Reidun looked up from the minutes and cleared her throat. "The children of God make decisions based on which appears to have a greater benefit. There are a few difficulties with keeping Siegfried disowned, true, but there are slightly greater drawbacks for acknowledging him: namely, a potential scandal that could set work back. Thus the path of action the Prince-Abbot has taken is both logical and just," she said. The Prince-Abbot steepled his hands.

"That doesn't make it right!" protested Siegfried. He wanted to say more, so much more, enough to make his damn father and that damn girl of his look out of his eyes; he wanted them to agree with him. But he could not think of the words.

"I cannot find any logic in that statement," said Reidun. They glared at each other for the next minute, to the bemusement of Gerhard and bewilderment of Marcellus.

Finally Gerhard said, "This is getting nowhere. Onto the next topic."

"Siegfried's accommodations," Reidun helpfully provided.

"Yes. We've arranged for you to share a room with two of the reserve children. You will be on your best behavior with them. _Nihil per contentionem neque per inanem gloriam sed in humilitate superiores sibi invicem arbitrantes non quae sua sunt singuli considerantes sed et ea quae aliorum_ ," Gerhard said. (2)

Siegfried replied, "I don't speak Latin."

"Do you really?" Gerhard asked worriedly. Siegfried didn't respond, but Gerhard acted as if he had.

"The priest should have taught you. I was very clear to your foster parents that you must be educated."

Siegfried said, "Yes, well, he did, but…."

"Croatia, peripheral as it is, is subject to many heterodox practices. In particular Latin is uncommon among the clergy, Church Slavonic is used instead. Is this fact pertinent to your excuse?" asked Reidun. (3)

Gerhard put his face in his palm and sighed. "Unacceptable. I'll have to find someone to teach you Latin now," he said.

"That'll disrupt the plans for his training," said Marcellus.

"Indeed," remarked Gerhard. Successive looks of deep thought, determination, confusion, and resignation passed over his face. He said, "You can handle his education as you wish. Come up with a plan by Monday. In the meantime get him started in EVA training and introduce him to the reserve children."

Marcellus stammered, "Ah, thank you sir!"

"Yes. Dismissed!" barked Gerhard.

The monk and the boy left the room. The girl finished jotting down the minutes of the meeting, and the abbot breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

After they left the room, Marcellus answered Siegfried's many remaining questions. The boy would be living with two of the reserve children – those who could synchronize just enough to the EVA to keep it from berserking. Like them, he would have various duties mostly relating to cleaning the area, would take a shift restraining the EVA, and would train with weapons and the EVA.

The reason Gerhard was so insistent on having Siegfried learn Latin was that he, and all the other children, were supposed to be training for the priesthood. It remained unclear just how serious this commitment was. Sure, Marcellus's charges all could read and speak Latin, but from the schedule left by his predecessor the bulk of the reserves' time was spent not in clerical training nor even in restraining the EVA. Rather, the bulk of their hours were spent either training as soldiers, with human-scale versions of the weapons the EVAs used, or in menial labor around the cave-monastery. The monk had some hypotheses on why this arrangement was, but no real proof of anything. Nevertheless the arrangements persisted out of inertia and fear of knocking some misunderstood vital component of an unknown plan out of place. His mind set on such thoughts, Marcellus left Siegfried at Sister Rolanda Acquisto's door.

The monk went onwards. The day was still long ahead of him, and he would have a lot to teach the new boy. Some water (4) or beer would be an excellent preparation. The casks were in the mess, so having uncorked his hip flask, he sent himself there. He filled flask a quarter with beer, tasted it, and then filled it the rest of the way. If wine was the blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, then the booze Marcellus was drinking could be compared to His urine. But at least it had alcohol.

Siegfried Oberdorfer, not to be confused with his new charge, was getting the same thing. He was one of Acquisto's subordinates, a university graduate, and one of the people Marcellus had made his goal to acquaint himself with.

"How are things, Siegfried!" the monk said. He waited for an answer, which he got after the big Sig (he had to suppress himself from calling the man that) took a swig of beer.

Oberdorfer replied, "Just as usual, but even more work. I swear Rolanda wants to kill us all."

"So what'cha working on this time?"

"The Trent will be repaired by Wednesday," he said disinterestedly. "It's not going quite as well as we'd hoped, but she promised the Abbot Wednesday and she's going to make it done on Wednesday."

"Hm. Well, I just wanted to let you know that the new pilot, well, he's got the same name as you and..."

Siegfried cut in. "I know," he said exasperatedly.

"So, what about a nickname? Marcellus asked cheerfully. Hopefully the attitude would rub off on Oberdorfer.

"Don't call me big Sieg," he warned.

"Oh Siegfried?"

"No."

"The Dorf?"

"No."

"Übersiegfried!" Marcellus was becoming concerned; his attempt to ingratiate himself to Acquisto's subordinate was still unsuccessful and he looked annoyed.

To Marcellus's delight, Siegfried's scowl faded a little. But he rejected the nickname. "How about my last name? That's what everyone else is calling me." Oberdorfer said. He took another swig of his beer.

Marcellus nodded. Now was a good breaking point for this conversation. "Alright, I will. Now if you excuse me, I've got work to do too. Good day!"

* * *

Ten minutes after leaving the blonde nun, Siegfried von Ingolschen's head still hurt. She'd been all questions, just one after another. What did you think when you got into the EVA? The moment you charged the monster, did any of your muscles feel weak or sore or stiff? What did you _feel_ when the Angel sliced up the _Wien_ 's jaw? The first, he'd been worried that he would be killed by Reidun or by the Evangelion itself. The second, he didn't remember, even after the third time she'd asked that. As for the third, it was actually quite painful, what did she expect? It didn't help that he'd just woken up from a coma.

Now he was in the barracks where all the other children involved in the maintenance of the EVA were kept. None of them seemed to be there currently, so they were probably somewhere else. Because of course they were. He couldn't just go somewhere, and expect to be where he was supposed to be. He'd always have to muss out the details of what he was supposed to be doing from some random person who looked what he knew what he was doing. Marcellus had given him a schedule, but it was in Latin. Too bad there. "I know you can't read this, but I don't like to keep too much paper on me, so can you hold on to it anyways?" he had said. He'd also explained what he was supposed to be doing today, but in the wake of the brain-draining interview with his father's top female underling (that thought raised some images he didn't want to dwell on) he just couldn't remember.

After a few minutes of rooting through the barrack halls,he'd found what was probably his room. It had his name on it; that was a positive sign. It also had the names of a "Kenneth Adelton" and a "Tomas Socarras" written on the same slip of paper next to the door. Now, Siegfried thought, if I'm in that room, and they're also in that room, then we're roommates. The name "Kenneth" seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember why. The new Child entered the room and sat down on the one bed. Letting his back come to rest on the mattress, he fell asleep immediately.

* * *

Shortly afterwards, Siegfried was woken by large, rough hands rocking him back and forth. Coming to his senses, he realized a well-built boy standing by the bedside to be the owner of those hands.

"What's your name? What are you doing here?" the boy asked. He was wearing a red-orange shirt and pants.

"I'm, uh, s-Siegfried von Ingolschen," said that very person. The last thing he wanted to do now was have a conversation; he wanted to say something like, "Shove off and let me sleep," but he couldn't think of a cool way to say it at the moment. The other boy responded by punching him in the neck.

Siegfried gagged and coughed to full alertness. "What the hell?" This conversation, already unwanted, was getting worse and worse. He wondered if it would be possible to just unilaterally fall asleep on the other guy. Unfortunately, he was now very awake and had no choice but to engage with this unknown puncher. This train of thought went through Siegfried's head often.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

The unknown boy, who had brown hair and eyes, yelled, "This is for Ken!" His fist once again sunk into Siegfried's cheek.

"Who the hell is Ken!?" Siegfried screamed, perhaps prematurely. He pulled his legs behind him and got to his knees. Then it occurred to him. _Kenneth Adelton…_

"You nearly killed him and you don't even remember his name? You really are scum," the other boy ranted. "Kenneth was just doing his round in the EVA, when you came and made it go berserk."

In this type of situation, Siegfried's instinct was to apologize. He did. It didn't work.

"Oh, so you're sorry now, are you? I bet that makes his arm bones not broken anymore." The new angry boy had a smirk on his face now, as if he'd been wanting to deliver that line for a while.

"Look," said Siegfried, "Kenneth was nice, I remember him now, OK, but it wasn't my fault he got hurt." The other boy's face softened. "And at least he's not dead, right?"

"It used to be that when you got out of the EVA cockpit, the other guy needed to be there in two minutes. As soon as Kenneth got out with you there, the thing went nuts," the other boy said. "So anyway, you need another punch."

Siegfried put his hands up. "Hey wait...," he said.

At that moment, the door swung open, revealing Reidun, who was carrying a pile of clothing. Siegfried quickly racked his mind for thoughts of how to deal with this new presence, but the next moment there was a fist in his nose.

His nose stung, but more importantly, he couldn't just let Kenneth's friend exact his revenge upon him passively. Why, Reidun was watching. She'd already seen him fail at running from the EVA and putting said EVA back in the pit. It would be even worse if she got the idea he was some sort of doormat. So he punched back.

His punch missed, and Kenneth's friend grasped tightly onto his left arm. Siegfried grabbed his left and stood up. The bed gave him high ground, and he kicked his opponent in the chest before yanking his left arm free. The other boy put Siegfried's legs in a bear hug, but Reidun interrupted them.

"Unauthorized fighting is illegal within this abbey. Siegfried, your clothes are here," she said dumping them onto the bed. "Both of you are to report to the training hall immediately." With her long, purposeful strides she left the room.

One of the boys introduced himself. "I'm Tomas."

"And I'm Siegfried, but you probably already knew," said the other.

* * *

(1) Geldern, or as it is now called Gelderland, is part of the Netherlands. Historically, Wilhelm V (the Rich) of the United Duchies of Jülich-Cleves-Berg inherited this duchy before losing it to Charles V, whose Habsburg family had claimed the area from the time of the breakup of Burgundy.

(2) Philippians 2:3-4

(3) Pope Innocent IV gave the Croatians permission to conduct liturgy in the Church Slavonic language, which was written in the Glagolitic script. In fact, several areas were given this permission to abstain from Latin long before Vatican II. The natives of North America were given permission to conduct liturgy in their native Americans, resulting in a situation where there were Catholic Bibles in Mohawk and Huron long before there were such in French or Italian.

(4) While it's a common belief that people in medieval and early modern times drank only alcoholic beverages due to the lack of water purification, that belief is just a myth. Wells and fast-moving rivers provided plenty of potable water for the world's thirsty. One question that should be asked to people who insist on the aforementioned myth: If drinking alcohol and dying of thirst were the only options in the olden days, how did Islam, which bans the drinking of alcohol, survive longer than a week?


	3. Ephesians 2:19

28 September, 1570

It was a sunny early afternoon in Stettin-Drei, and each house was heating to uncomfortable levels. It was worst in the uppermost floors of the four-to-five-story apartments that made up most of the housing stock. The poorer citizens who lived there had almost universally vacated their homes, preferring the slightly cooler temperatures of their workplaces or the city taverns. The abbot, Gerhard von Ingolschen, had one of these stuffy fifth floors, but he also had a fourth, third, second, and first floor in his city apartment. Currently, he was in the first floor with a glass of water, waiting for company. The time they had set for the meeting had already gone by ten minutes ago, so he was in an active wait. An active wait is different from a passive wait; when someone is passively waiting they are doing something besides waiting, such as working, eating, or even sleeping. Gerhard wasn't. Instead he was actively preparing all the things he would say to his superiors. He'd prepared ten jokes to sprinkle in at some points in the conversation; with luck he would get to give five. Making (tasteful) jokes in a serious conversation is a good way to communicate a nonplussed mien and a confident demeanor, and after the scare with Sachiel both were needed.

 _Knock, knock._ And there they were. Gerhard opened the door, revealing a group of twelve people. Nine of them were guards, including the one who knocked on the door. The other three came in.

"Ugo, Nikita, Wilhelm! How are you this day?"

"Good day, Herr von Ingolschen," said Wilhelm. The three men took their seats.

"First," said Ugo, "who will be presiding over this meeting."

"I've got straws," offered Gerhard, taking three from his pocket. Wilhelm, Ugo, and Nikita each drew, and Nikita drew the long straw. He gathered his posture and cleared his throat.

Gerhard preempted him, yelling, "Reidun! The guests are here! Bring out the wine!" Nikita put off his opening speech as the blue-haired maiden came in with goblets and a bottle, pouring each man some of the fruits of the vines of Baden. The abbot had picked the Baden wine because it was of his native country, and if they appreciated the one Badener they might appreciate the other.

"Oh my, she's grown so much since I last saw her!" crooned Wilhelm. "May I?"

"Absolutely not!" Ugo and Gerhard shouted at the same time. Such was to be expected with the Duke; Gerhard was glad Ugo had backed him up. Otherwise it would have looked like he was taking a stand against his own superiors. Reidun pretended not to notice the whole exchange.

Nikita put his goblet down. "As I was going to say, we haven't all been in the same room for a good while. Let's start by discussing what we have done since then. I'll go first. Since three years ago, I have been appointed the governor of Tver. There were calls in Moscow for a war with Poland, but through some bribery, and some, ah, ordered deaths, I have prevented this conflict. The subsidies from Moscow will continue unabated."

"Very good!" said Ugo. "Have you made any progress with the testing facility?"

"Yes, I've secured and emptied a site, and construction is beginning." His voice soured. "I was going to get to that."

"I apologize, Mr. Nikita," said Ugo icily.

"Well, your turn, Cardinal," Nikita replied in the same manner.

"I might not be one for much longer," Ugo said. "I have been corresponding with a great deal of the College, and after this pope dies I will probably be the next."

"Anything else you would like to say?" Nikita pressed.

"No, not really. I've set up a correspondence with several professors in Italy who are recommending new personnel, but other than that nothing."

"Wilhelm," Nikita requested.

Wilhelm said, "Mainz, Trier, and Cologne have been infiltrated by my agents [1]. I feel like we can rely on their votes. Sadly, the Emperor has rejected outright my request to be bestowed an electorate." Such was expected. The Habsburgs despised the duke of Julich-Cleves-Berg, ever since he had used the chaos of the Impact and Karl V's death to snatch off the half-flooded, depopulated remains of Gelderland for himself.

"Huh, that's too bad," said Nikita. "Now, I'd like to ask something. Has anyone seen any of our people in the Ottoman Empire?" No one responded.

"Distressing," he said. "I don't have any proof that Constantinople's had any contact with any of our members for the last two years. We need to send a delegation."

Ugo interjected, "I tried that six months ago! They were ambushed and killed in Hungary."

"Was it the Habsburgs or the Ottomans or the Zapolyas?" asked Gerhard.

Ugo dismissively waved his hand. "They each blame the other. But I think it was probably Constantinople's orders. _Unless_ the Emperor is trying to act up again."

"Ay me," said Wilhelm.

Nikita said, "Let's save that for later. I'd like to move on to the real reason we're all here. The EVA."

"Yes, let's!" said Gerhard. "The Evangelion _Wien_ performed without a hitch. The abomination was destroyed, and has been dumped back into the sea. You can imagine the butchers' protest over that." Wilhelm, who was all too aware of how easily cat meat could be sold as pork, chuckled. One out of five.

"The Evangelion _Wien_ ," Wilhelm repeated. "What about the Evangelion _Trent_? Where was that?"

"The pilot's right here," offered Ugo.

Gerhard said, "Ah yes, exactly!" He called to his protégé/maid, "Reidun, can you come and explain how you totaled your EVA a few weeks ago?"

The girl entered the room and started explaining. "A few weeks ago, I was conducting weapons training with the Evangelion. As part of this training, I was stabbing a target with the butt-spike of the poleaxe. While I was doing that, I stepped forwards. The poleaxe stuck in the target, and I tripped on a log. So I fell forwards , onto the spear-end. It stabbed me in the heart," she said as she imitated being stabbed in the heart, "and the EVA nearly bled out. I am truly fortunate to have survived."

Gerhard sipped his wine as his superiors listened intently to Reidun's explanation. She spoke with barely any emotion, as usual. That's what made her such a good liar. It was his turn to speak now. "Of course, the EVA is fully healed now. When the next ang… the next _thing_ attacks, she will participate. The other pilot is in training right now." That was true. And thus the abbot slipped an inquiry that could easily have gotten him executed, and all without telling a single lie.

* * *

Sweat dripped down Siegfried's doublet as he hefted the training poleaxe. He'd been out here for hours, and even though it was only moderately hot inside the cavern, the constant activity and three-quarters-plate armor [2] had worn him out.

"Go!" Marcellus yelled. Tomas, in a similar state of fatigue, stood in front of him. But he wouldn't let his burning shoulders stop him from showing up the von Ingolschen boy. He stabbed with the butt of the poleaxe, which Siegfried deflected away. Then he swung the blade end forward, smacking Siegfried in the neck with the shaft. It was a hard hit, but the armor, although cheaply made [3], absorbed most of the blow. Additionally the poleaxes they were training with were made entirely of wood, and the ends were covered in leather. But with a swift yank the blunt hook caught on Siegfried's shoulder blades and sent him tumbling to the ground. He lay there for a few seconds, not wanting to put forth the effort to stand up.

"Losers run a lap!" Marcellus shouted. Across the sparring field, one from each pair of reserve Children got up and started running to the armory. After Siegfried touched the building, he could see that the winners, Tomas included, had taken the advantage of the reprieve to put down their weapons, stretch, and catch their breaths. _Not fair_ , he thought.

When he got back, he fought Tomas again, and lost again. The next time he won, sending his roommate cursing under his breath to the armory. Victory tasted like the coolest and purest water.

"Alright, sparring is over! We'll meet again at the library, after dinner. It's Hans's turn in the _Wien_ and Jean's in the _Trent_. Dismissed!" The monk left, taking his stool with him.

After taking off and stowing their armors, Tomas and Siegfried went back to their room. As they stopped to open the dormitory door, Tomas's shoulder brushed against Siegfried's. Even as he apologized, the Croatian couldn't help to feel a brief but intense loathing for the other boy. As Marcellus's endless training bouts dragged on, all the other pairs of Children had mutually slowed down their pace. By the end it was quite noticeable that poleaxes were being hefted with deliberate lethargy, stances were being changed only occasionally if at all, and some pairs were winning and losing in alternation. He and Tomas were the exception. For two hours he never relented in his effort to score as many victories as possible. He almost certainly spent more effort in that fashion than he would have running a few more laps. The aches running through both of their bodies proved the only explanation was malice, but what had he done to him? Siegfried resolved to ask for a room change. But that could wait for later. To show a certain fellow boy who badly needed to be beaten at something that his plan to sap his energy hadn't worked (though it had) Siegfried doubled his pace. But as he was so close to his room, the only thing he could stand thinking about was a long naked nap on the bed, whence his sweat would flow into the mattress, making it smell more like him and home. If Tomas did not like seeing his genitals then he could go to hell; it was too damn hot to put on a blanket. Upon arriving at his room, he immediately took off his doublet and shirt, and toweled off the wet skin underneath. Tomas entered in after him, and took off his doublet. Grabbing a towel, he pulled his shirt out of his hose and scrubbed off some dirt and sweat. He then lay down in the middle of the bed.

Although Tomas was sore, by the time he was settled he really wasn't tired anymore. He'd always had a knack for regaining energy quickly, and it was no exception today. Staying in a bed didn't appeal to him. The problem was, there just was nothing to do. Since Kenneth had had his arm broken, the room felt like a prison. Worse, it was a hot prison. And even worse, Siegfried stood in the room, dithering like an idiot, having replaced Kenneth, having hurt the best friend he had in this godforsaken country, having slept in Kenneth's bed space without his permission. His eyes went to the bench in the corner, on top of which were a few of Kenneth's books. He contemplated reading one, but written words just didn't appeal to him. He would have to put up with more of those than he had ever wanted to in his life after dinner, as he did after nearly every dinner. Indeed, some priest he would be.

Siegfried gazed wistfully at the bed. Tomas, lying in the middle, didn't leave all that much space on either side. Once Kenneth got out of the infirmary he would have to deal with these cramped conditions all the time, but when he was daydreaming of napping he had imagined having the entire bed to himself, so he could stretch his arms and spread his legs. He didn't really want to ask him to move; it might have been futile. He might be able to find the space he wanted outside. A nap on a grassy hillock wouldn't be so bad. But then he would have to wear clothes; after all, he didn't want to show random monks his naked body. He threw on a clean shirt.

"I'm going to visit Kenneth," Tomas said. He spoke as if this made him better than Siegfried. _He_ was supporting his fallen comrade, while the abbot's son was just sitting there being impotent. Him leaving the room was all good, but it felt like he was being obliged to follow him.

Nevertheless, Siegfried took the opportunity to crash on the bed. He sunk into the wool under the sheets, into which sweat and heat wicked from his cheeks. It felt refreshing, but in a few minutes he was up again. A part of him just didn't want to relax. Tomas was with Kenneth; maybe he should be there too? In a few weeks, he would have to share this bed with Kenneth; shouldn't he meet him? Actually, how many weeks would depend on the severity of his injury. And he didn't really have any idea how badly Kenneth was injured, because he'd never asked him. Maybe he should have asked Tomas, but now they were both at the infirmary. Well, then he'd go too!

Siegfried set off for the infirmary, which was half of a mile away. As he was walking, he supposed that it would be nice if he got there before Tomas left. Hadn't he held 'being the one keeping an eye on Kenneth' over him? Or at least it seemed like he had. There really was no need for him to announce it like he had. If he was in that rat-of-whatever-country-he-was-from's shoes, he would have pretended to be going someplace else, like maybe to get food. Everyone needed to get food, so it wouldn't be conspicuous for him to do so.

But Tomas probably wouldn't be in the infirmary for long. In order to get there on time to prove he cared too, he'd need to sprint. So he did. By the time he got to the infirmary, Siegfried was practically about to fall down. His balance was wobbly, vision was blurry, and he'd dirtied his clean shirt. Opening the door felt worse than lifting a giant boulder, but the Croat made it inside.

The building the infirmary was in had several hallways emanating from the entry, which were all doubled in his vision. The central hallway looked the most familiar, so he pushed through that one. A few doors down were the infirmaries – one for the sick and another for the injured. He opened the door to the injured room, of which Kenneth and Tomas were the only inhabitants.

"Hi Ken," he said. "How's your arm doing?" He shuffled towards him, ignoring Tomas. The bedridden boy seemed to be doing alright; his eyes were bright and he looked healthy aside from the cast on his arm. Come to think of it, he probably hadn't had to attend poleaxe practice since he'd had his arm broken. Actually, by the positioning of the cast it looked more like a wrist fracture than a broken arm. To think Tomas was so mad about him supposedly causing (he hadn't) this wound. Kenneth's image oscillated in front of him.

Kenneth, looking up from the book he was reading, responded, "Oh hello... Siegfried! It's getting bett-." And then Siegfried vomited on his lap.

Kenneth squirmed like a worm. He threw his book across the room, then started trying to shake his legs out of the sheets, screaming all the way. Once his knees were safely curled to his chest, he tossed the sheets to the foot of the bed, then dove out, landing in a forward roll and then in an ungainly sprawl on the ground. He stood up, breathing deeply and rapidly. Tomas's expression was pure revulsion.

Siegfried curled up on the floor, shuddering and occasionally retching. If only out of sheer bile fascination, neither Kenneth nor Tomas could look away. He was so transfixed that he almost didn't notice his moans.

In the next three hours, Siegfried was hauled onto an infirmary bed, an orderly finally cleaned up the vomit and brought Kenneth new sheets, and Gerhard's meeting ended. When Siegfried had woken up, he was hauled before Marcellus.

"What have you done, and more importantly, how were you too stupid to not do it? In my old occupation I would appreciate a soldier who took the initiative to run… twenty more laps than anyone else during practice. But not if they then _vomited_ on me! You, Siegfried, have firmly cemented yourself as being the _dunce_ of the order!"

"And don't try to make excuses, you son of a whore!" After looking around to make sure noone that would report to the abbot had heard him, he continued berating Siegfried.

* * *

That night, shortly after Tomas had went to sleep, Siegfried snuck out of his room. Making sure to act like he belonged, he walked right out of the Geofront. He even saluted the gate guard. In his pocket were half a dozen reichsthaler [4] coins, enough to get him far, far, away if he played his cards right. He was also wearing most of his clothes, as he didn't want to be seen leaving with a backpack. No matter how good an act he could put up, there was no good reason for leaving with a backpack in the dead of night. At least, there was no reason Gerhard would see as good. He had a perfectly good reason. He just wasn't cut out for the job. He'd injured his own colleagues, messed up so many times, and vomited on his future roommate. But now Kenneth would never be his roommate; he'd be going back home. "If they don't want me to mess up this 'important' business, then I'll just go home and be a nuisance to my real family," he said.

He turned around. He said that aloud. Shit. Had anyone heard him? Siegfried ducked into a bush and for a minute waited there, staring at where he had just left. Seeing no movement, he went back onto the road. The sky was beautiful tonight. It was a new moon, so all the stars in the sky, the same stars as he would see from in front of his home in Croatia, were visible, whilst hardly anything on the ground was. In addition, the eternal summer night was only somewhat cooler than the day, so in his several layers of clothes Siegfried felt amply warm. Warm and dark, like under the covers of a bed. He couldn't keep walking, so he stopped and stared at the stars.

The Milky Way shone brightly in the night sky without being overshadowed by the now-dark moon. On most nights it would not be so luminous. Of course, the downside was that the moon itself wasn't visible. As Siegfried came upon a clearing, he lay down in the center, propping his head against a rock. He'd had a bad few weeks, but how were Stjepan and Marija doing? He hadn't seen them since he'd left home. They were still getting their subsidy for keeping him alive the last decade or so, but they would be missing him. On the other hand, what would he say to them when he got back? "Hi, I'm back, I didn't like Stettin-Drei so I'm on the run from the One True Church, how've you been?" They wouldn't like him betraying (yes, that was what he was doing) his birth father and benefactor. It occurred to him that he hadn't really planned his course of action. Home was very near the first place Gerhard would check for him. He would want his son piloting the EVA, no matter how things turned out. Why was that? There might have been some technical reason why he had to stay there. In that line he could imagine a number of possibilities, as he still had basically no clue how EVA piloting worked. But more likely he just wanted the glory to accrue onto his own son, rather than any number of more competent substitutes. Or he might simply despise him. Aye, though that fit with his own suspicions, it wouldn't do as an explanation by itself. Whatever the reason, if Siegfried went home he would be pursued and captured.

What about somewhere else? The world was big, and the Order couldn't pursue him everywhere. With the end of its formidable winter fifteen years ago, Russia was a good place for an able-bodied youth fleeing Catholics. But Russia would also not be home. But couldn't it be home? Surely the Russians called their own villages home, why couldn't he? A vein twitched in his eye as he tried to hold that thought. But his mind continued. In fact, home was where Marija, Stjepan, and his friends were. And those people were in Croatia, not Russia. But wasn't there something more to home than just people?

 _Damnit, I'm arguing with myself in the wrong direction_ , Siegfried thought. The something else, whatever the hell it was, wouldn't be in Russia. But now he wanted to argue with himself yet again. He tried to imagine his village without anyone but him. The chickens pecking around the bushes, the wind rustling through the thatch, the highest hill, from whose summit one could see the Imperial tower, whose drunken, womanizing, and armed Imperial soldiers represented the splendor of Vienna for the locals. But every village had thatch and chickens, and every village in Croatia had to deal with soldiers. Maybe somewhere like the city of Stettin-Drei had some sort of "locality" beyond the actual people, but his home village was just like the two nearest it. So it must have had some special quality making it 'home'. Russia would never be home, and he had to deal with that.

Deal with it! Huh! What the hell did that mean? If he wanted to go home, and Russia wasn't home, why the hell would he need to go there?

In the warm dark night, with a comfortably angled rock under his head, Siegfried started to feel like sleeping. He sat himself up, and stopped looking at the stars. He needed to be an adult, to be resolute. There were no good options down the road out of Stettin-Drei, so he had no choice but to remain. He walked back into the GeoFront, saluting the guard as he went. Silently, he crept back into his room, into his bed, and fell asleep.

* * *

The next day proceeded much like how the first one started out. Tomas and Siegfried woke up at dawn, and both tried to ignore the other as visibly as possible until breakfast. Then Siegfried had to get in the EVA and make it eat its daily meal of ten barrels of oats and ten more of dry beans. While he was synced he could taste the gargantuan meal, which made him feel sorry for the poor creature. The food was oppressively bland, so dry that it soaked up all the saliva in the Eva's mouth (and made the pilot salivate uncontrollably due to the synchronization) and irritated his throat on the way down. Siegfried had had to smuggle in a slice of cheese just to avoid vomiting from the sheer tastelessness. Fortunately all things come to an end, and after finishing the barrels of fodder there was EVA training. Until lunch, he and Reidun would constantly drill exactly four different maneuvers: a step forwards, a step backwards, a step to the right, and a step to the left, and so on in various combinations. He got the idea that this was probably very easy and unnecessary for the blue-haired girl (after all, quite unlike himself she never messed up), but damned if she wasn't just going along with it anyway. It was sort of eerie how docile she was. At some point, Siegfried would have to go up to her and say something negative about his father; that ought to put some life into the girl. When he got out of the EVA, he was going to follow through with the plan, but then she looked at him. Those red eyes, piercing into his soul, crushed all of his plans, and he headed off silently to lunch.

Lunch was also completely silent; this custom was one of the few portions of the Rule of St. Benedict that the Order of St. Gerbert of Aurillac had chosen to follow. Also in accordance with the Rule, a passage of the Bible was read, although which one Siegfried did not know as it was read in Latin. Luther might have had the right idea, he thought.

After lunch came one of Marcellus's penchant grueling four-hour long poleaxe training sessions. This one was no different from the last few, except there were two more water breaks. Those breaks were almost certainly due to the infirmary incident, and he debated taking credit. In the end, he decided it wasn't worth the other children knowing about it, as somehow the story hadn't spread beyond those who witnessed it. Why _hadn't_ Tomas told everybody by now? He'd had the opportunity. Or maybe they were just trying to pretend they didn't know. Siegfried couldn't find out without telling everybody about the incident, so he just shoved it into a corner of his mind. Nevertheless, the uncertainty haunted him through practice to dinner, then to Marcellus's evening lecture, and then to bed.

* * *

Just a few hours after Siegfried shut his eyes, he was shaken awake. "Handle it yourself, Tomas," he murmured before closing his eyes again. But it was Tomas's turn to man the _Wien_ tonight; Siegfried had the bed to himself. He didn't think of that until he was physically lifted off the bed and dumped unceremoniously onto the floor, blankets and all.

He asked, irately but mostly drowsily, "What _is_ it?" He blinked.

Marcellus was standing over him. He lay his head on the floor and closed his eyes in defiance.

"Get up _now_ , Siegfried! It's an angel attack!" He pulled Siegfried to his feet and led him by the hand out of his room.

Now Siegfried heard the bells, ringing wildly, but no, when he listened closely they were in a pattern. The hallway was nearly pitch-black, with Marcellus's face just barely distinguishable from the walls, and then mostly because it was much closer. He kept tugging his hand, pulling him outside. Was there really an angel? Would he have to face such a beast yet again? His mind flashed back a few days. The angel's hand was ripping through his mouth, like a psychotic, razor-sharp plum pit. Would this one do the same? Well, he _had_ had training now, right? Surely he'd be good enough to prevent such a thing. If he were in that same situation right now, with all the countless, exhausting hours of training he'd sweated through, he'd…. He stopped to think for a moment, but Marcellus's hand pulled him stumbling through the door.

Now he was outside, but it was still almost pitch-black. Of course, it was the middle of the night, and inside a cave, and a new moon to boot. What would he do again? Yes, of course, he'd swing the poleaxe. That was the weapon he was given, right? But where at? The neck, for a kill strike? Its accursed octagon field would intercept the axehead, uselessly deflecting the blow. Maybe the forearm? Even if the poleaxe wasn't stopped by octagons, the forearm was a pretty small target, and a hit with the shaft probably wouldn't do much. But he couldn't really concentrate on visualizing the hit, because his own forearm was still in Marcellus's grip.

"Marcellus," he asked, "What would you do if you couldn't wake me up?"

"A bucket of cold water," said Marcellus.

"If that didn't work?" Siegfried asked.

"I'd probably just slap you until you woke up," Marcellus said indifferently. He had experience with such matters.

"No, I mean, what if no matter what you did you couldn't wake me up. What if I was dead?"

Marcellus grimaced. "I honestly don't know; I haven't been here very long. You should ask Mrs. Acquisto." He also had experience trying to wake dead men for muster, but he didn't think it was applicable.

"Ehhhh…,"

"Ah yeah, what was I thinking?" Marcellus chuckled.

"In all seriousness, I wouldn't worry about it," he continued. "You're young; you're healthy; if you die you're going to die after the battle starts."[5]

Siegfried shuddered. He was silent for the rest of the walk, which took them up a long set of stairs built into the side of the cavern near the gate. These stairs took him up to an overlook on the hill, where Reidun, Rolanda Acquisto, and the other Siegfried were waiting. The overcast sky blocked out all the stars, leaving the view truly darkened.

"I got Siegfried. Where's the Angel?" asked Marcellus.

"It's over there," said Acquisto. She pointed beyond and to the left of Stettin-Drei, in the Baltic Sea.

"I can't see anything," Marcellus strained.

"Wait a, how many seconds left?" Acquisto turned to the taller Siegfried.

"Eight, Seven, Six…," he counted.

"How many seconds left until what?" Marcellus asked.

A few seconds later, "what" happened. The bay was lit up by two glowing pink lines, like boiled and hanging pasta, hovering over the waters. They stayed on for two seconds, revealing the Angel holding them. Its main body looked something like the underside of a woodlouse, with a broad head and two long arms, each holding a line, connecting at the top, and a long wide tail stretching to the water. It did not make a single move, but it seemed to be staring at them.

"Wow, that... doesn't look like the last one," said Marcellus. Siegfried von Ingolschen didn't know whether to be glad or terrified.

"This happens for approximately one and a half seconds every ninety seconds," Rolanda said. "We started observing this phenomenon thirty four and a half minutes ago. Before that it was observed several times by the gate guards. Assuming an elapsed time of half an hour between their first observations and our first observations, this phenomenon has just occurred for the 43rd time."

Marcellus asked, "So we have time to make a plan?"

"Probably," said Rolanda.

Marcellus sat on the ledge. "So, can it see us?"

Rolanda pointed at the sea. "You see those little lights on the beach? Those are torches, held by people from Stettin-Drei."

"What? Those idiots!" Marcellus interjected.

Rolanda continued. "Every time the Angel lights up, its head is pointing somewhere different. But it's always looking at one of the lights." The Angel lit up again.

The tall Siegfried observed, "I'm pretty sure I saw a group of people without a torch. The Angel hasn't looked at them yet."

Marcellus clapped. "I think you're onto something! Has it looked at us yet?"

"No, it hasn't," Rolanda's assistant replied.

"If it's looking at the people with torches, and it's not looking at the people who don't have torches, like us…"

Oberdorfer exclaimed, "Then that means it can't see in the dark!"

"But what about its own lights?" asked Rolanda. "Shouldn't it be able to see us?

"43 times one and a half seconds is 60 seconds, more or less," said Marcellus. "That's nowhere near enough time to effectively survey the entire landscape, especially in intervals."

Siegfried von Ingolschen asked, "If it can't see in the dark, how does that help us? We can't see either."

"Ah, but the EVAs can!" Marcellus remarked. He turned to Reidun. "Can they?"

"They can't," she said.

"Well, that's not the only way we can use the darkness to our advantage," the monk said. "When the last Angel attacked, it fired those bombs with the cross-shaped explosions at the EVA. This way, we can sneak up on it, and it won't know to shoot its bombs. It's in an open area, but I think we can still get an EVA up close to it before it notices…."

* * *

Two hours later, Siegfried took a look at his EVA. A dark blue poncho had been stitched together from rolls of fabric, and a hood the same color obscured the head. Even with the few torches surrounding the beast, it was sometimes legitimately hard to make out. Reidun's EVA was still naked as its mission didn't require as much stealth, so it was easier to see. He entered the Entry Wound.

The alcohol and blood scent was less offensive than at first, but it still reeked. Siegfried slipped into the Cord, giving Tomas a pat on the shoulder to signal his eviction. He nodded and left. Now Siegfried was seeing through the EVA's eyes. Around a hundred or two monks, no, people associated with the monastery, no, employees of his father's principality, milled through the vicinity of the two EVA pits. There were people untying the various ropes and chains supposedly restraining the EVAs, people tying extra reinforcing stitches into the seams of his camouflage, and people just standing and watching. And there was Marcellus, riding a horse to ease his laps relaying information between the pits and the overlook. As of course horses couldn't go up stairs, he was still exhausted, but not as much as he would have been if he hadn't been lent the horse.

"Go, go, go!" his teacher screamed.

Siegfried didn't need to be told twice. Checking to make sure no one was too close to the pit, he stood up the _Wien_. A few hundred feet away, the _Trent_ did the same. The EVA-scale poleaxes had both been dragged out of storage, and now they both were picked up. Each pilot replayed their instructions in their heads one last time before heading out the gate.

Siegfried liked Marcellus's plan. The best part about it was that, if it went right, he wouldn't have to combat the Angel for very long. Reidun would go into the sea about a mile from where the Angel was. Then she would swim underwater (apparently these things could hold their breath for a long time) and reveal herself only when she was within poleaxe range. He would hide in the forest and wait for her to do that. When it's back was turned, he would charge in to wedge an axehead in its carapace, if Reidun hadn't already managed to kill it. Which, honestly, she probably would. But then that wouldn't be his fault. If she didn't, then _he_ could deliver the killing blow, and bring some badly needed glory onto himself.

Reidun doubted the plan. She didn't deign to delve into the logic of the actual plan, but she'd been present for its drafting, and the process worried her. It was entirely the brainchild of three people who were most certainly not Gerhard von Ingolschen, the papally-picked abbot of the Military Order of St. Gerbert of Aurillac, who was in the city and whose judgement had not been deemed worth the risk of drawing the beast out of the bay prematurely. Rolanda Acquisto, a woman who'd managed to edge into the upper circles of the field of natural philosophy based mostly on her illustrious parentage and, to be fair, some natural talent. Either way, she was not really a woman of any practical experience. Siegfried Oberdorfer, her assistant. She really didn't know much about him, other than that he was a child of merchants who'd went to university. And Marcellus Herzener, the new guy. He'd apparently been some sort of soldier or low-ranking officer. This background might have given him some practical experience, but his low rank did not produce assurances about his strength of mind and character. All in all, the blind were leading the blind. Nevertheless, it was her duty to obey all their orders. She herself was hardly more qualified than them, after all.

The two EVAs crawled through the tunnel, the _Wien_ after the _Trent_. They kept on their hands and knees even after they exited the tunnel, taking cover on the side of the road. The Angel flashed, and the two pilots started counting as they crept ever closer to their target.

As Siegfried reached '40', he was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Looking behind his shoulder, he saw Tomas. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.

"You idiot, you went up before I could get out!" Tomas stage-whispered. Siegfried was taken aback by the fury on his face, and turned back away from him.

What to do? Siegfried had two basic choices. He could drop off Tomas, or he could keep him in the Cord. He grit his teeth. The first option would involve stopping the EVA, possibly warning the Angel of his presence, and calling attention to his own failure. The second would have none of those disadvantages, but Marcellus or Gerhard might not like it. Unless he could somehow smuggle him out after the Angel was defeated. It might be possible. There weren't many people around, there was a convenient forest, _it's pitch-black out here…._

Siegfried reached a decision quickly. He continued on his path, stopping at count 70 to take cover early in case the distraction had messed up his count. After a few rounds of sneaking in the darkness and hiding, he'd reached the observation point. It was a wide, shallow, and scrubby depression next to the side of the road. The edge of the forest ran just beyond its rim, providing more cover. From this point the Angel was about a mile to two miles out. It was too far to run in 90 seconds, but close enough to make a run for it while it was distracted. From this location, Siegfried and Tomas waited ten minutes for Reidun to get in the water, and five more for her to emerge behind the Angel.

The two boys had their eyes trained on where they thought the Angel was with mounting anxiety. A silhouette was almost visible, although it could have been their eyes playing tricks on them. Siegfried was most anxious about facing the Angel; his breathing could be heard even in the fluid of the cord. Tomas was also nervous, but he was more nervous about being in the EVA when he wasn't supposed to. However, he was also quite excited about seeing the beast fight in person. Finally, Reidun leapt out of the water, skewering the Angel's neck with the tip of her poleaxe.

On a human, such an injury would mean certain death. But as the Angel did not possess a jugular vein or a trachea, it was completely undeterred by the stabbing. Its whips, lighting up and illuminating the bay, settled on the EVA's rising body and coiled around its shoulders.

A wave of impatience swept through Tomas's mind. Before he could voice his sentiment though, Siegfried stood and began sprinting towards the Angel. His steps shook the earth, and the traction tore the vegetation from the ground like a massive plough. He was also yelling, but the EVA wasn't, for some reason.

Just as the Angel tightened its grip around the _Trent_ 's armpits, an orange barrier projected from Reidun's EVA's shoulders. The Angel's whips continued to constrict, forcing the field back inches in several seconds. The EVA's barrier pulsed even more, and the body intermittently flashed orange. Then the spike of a poleaxe burst straight through the Angel's body.

"Did I get him?" Siegfried asked as he withdrew the poleaxe. He knew he'd gotten the monster good, but his elation at killing an Angel was such that he doubted he had. Tomas peered closer at the beast. It was now gushing blood from both ends of the body, true, but its whips were still digging into the girl's barrier….

"No! It's still up!" he shouted. Just as the Angel had no trachea for Reidun to breach, there had been nothing vital in the path of Siegfried's thrust.

"By His _Kurac_ , this is just like the last one…," Siegfried mumbled. He stepped backward. They'd lost the element of surprise. Now it was just a stand-up fight between him and a sea monster with powers he didn't understand. And also Reidun. Who was losing. She was trying to cut one of the Angel's whips with the poleaxe hook, but it wasn't working. He readied his axe, but as he shifted the weapon in his hands the Angel interposed the _Trent_ between itself and the _Wien_. It flattened its body against Reidun's back, gripping into her ribs with its legs and nuzzling the back of her neck. Siegfried pretended to swing, then pulled back. He swung again, but pulled back again.. He felt like a rabbit, staring at a wolf with the bloody corpse of another rabbit in its teeth. The muscles around his eyes started to twitch in his continuing horrified expression. "Tomas! Any advice?" he begged hysterically.

Tomas shouted, "I don't know!" He felt about the same as Siegfried did.

Then the Angel made its move. It further tightened its grip around the _Trent_ 's right armpit, squeezing the barrier more and more… Until it popped. As the orange hexagons collapsed, the whip moved right both it, slicing through the EVA's arm. The limb landed in the sea.

* * *

Marcellus quickly crossed himself. "Jesamaryanjoseph," he murmured.

Siegfried Oberdorfer was a little slower to react. "Damn, there goes my weekend," he said in a mixture of disbelief and fear.

"Her entire arm is off. Are you sure a weekend's not optimistic?" Marcellus asked.

"Unlike the frostbite incident the arm's intact, so we should be able to re-attach it in a weekend, but still! I had plans," Rolanda's assistant moaned.

With a sudden tone of exasperation, Marcellus pressed, "What plans could you possibly have that are that important?" Siegfried stared at him, slightly offended. He continued, "There's a young girl in there, if you didn't forget!"

The assistant brushed it off with a wave of the hand. "No, she'll be fine. She's... not exactly a normal girl."

Not pausing for Marcellus's bewildered expression, he continued, "I'm more worried about mini-me. If something like that happens to him, well, he could die from the shock. Also we wouldn't have anything strong enough to bring Reidun's arm back here. Two weeks minimum, that is if we somehow survive."

Rolanda interrupted the conversation. "If you think dying will get you out of this, Mr. Oberdorfer, let it be known that I expect you to complete all the work I give you whether or not you are alive to do so."

"Ay, she means it," the assistant moaned. Marcellus started ignoring them at this point. Siegfried was fighting for his life and neither Acquisto nor Oberdorfer could help him at this point. He couldn't either, but watching closely seemed like the right thing to do.

* * *

Siegfried screamed and charged at the Angel, poleaxe at his hip. He swatted the _Trent_ to the side, piling into the Angel's torso. The Angel, its whips still on the _Trent_ , tried to grab the _Wien_ 's head with its vestigial legs. Siegfried punched it in the face, brought the poleaxe shaft against its neck, and began pushing. The Angel tried to resist, but Siegfried swept it over his leg and slammed its flailing body in the water. With one hand holding the poleaxe to its neck and the other keeping its head under the surface, he mounted its torso and sat in for a wait.

The Angel lashed at the EVA's sides, cutting large gashes with its whips. Then it sunk into the water. Siegfried couldn't see it as it had turned its whips off, but it settled to the bottom of the bay. Then, with a few stirrings of the sand imperceptible from the surface, it brought its long tail underneath its torso, folded like a spring. And it released. The Angel shot upwards, taking the EVA with it. After almost 75 feet in the air, it stopped and arranged itself in a horizontal line, pointed at the shore. The EVA arced through the air, landing in the exact spot it was aiming for. It brought itself to its knees just in time to brace for the Angel careening into it at top speed.

Siegfried was almost bowled over, but by sticking his poleaxe in the dirt he just barely kept his body off the ground. While he was righting out the EVA the angel changed itself back to its vertical form, reactivating its whips. But no sooner had the brilliant whips begun glowing than did Siegfried swing the poleaxe at the Angel's neck. The beast frantically put up a barrier, but it was too weak to prevent the axe head from burying itself in the Angel's neck and, through the force of the shaft, lopping off the Angel's spade-shaped head. As the latter flew through the air, the red gem at the base flashed so brightly that it lit the entire bay crimson. As it hit the earth, the body instantaneously withered and a new one generated itself from the head. With the grace of a heron, it rose off the ground and re-activated its whips.

Siegfried could only stare. He replayed the battle in his head. First Reidun had stuck it in the neck, then he'd stuck it in its torso. They were both good, penetrating hits, but it wasn't too extraordinary that it had basically shrugged both wounds off. But then he'd chopped its head clean off, and it was still there! His head sagged, and his eyes shed a few tears. He felt frustrated that he was stuck in the EVA with only Tomas to hear his complaints. None of this was his fault. It was that jumped-up dipshit Marcellus and Rolanda and that other guy just wouldn't recognize. All that running was, well, probably great training for making some random villager point a pike or arquebus in the right direction for a few hours, but this Angel was nothing like a tercio. The whips probed his range, making quick fake jabs while slowly undulating closer like a snake going up a tree branch. Sobbing, he flailed the poleaxe at the Angel, knocking away the whips, but not with enough force to sever any of them. Then the Angel went on the offensive. Parrying the poleaxe to his right, it reared back a whip to strike his left.

"God save us!" Siegfried cried. He threw his hands in front of him, and Tomas folded his for a quick prayer.

The Angel's whip crashed against an orange barrier, bouncing off it to the ground. In seconds, the _Wien_ wrested the poleaxe back to the center and stabbed with the butt-spike. The attack didn't penetrate the Angel's orange barrier, but it allowed it to wrap its whips around the _Wien_ 's barrier. As he stabbed more, the Angel tightened its hold. Belatedly Siegfried realized that it was repeating the same strategy that it used with Reidun.

As that went through Siegfried's mind, the Angel reared back and slammed its body into his. While he staggered backwards, the Angel pulled out the slack in its coil of cutting whips. He could feel its legs latching onto his chest, the pointed feet stinging like ant bites. And now it was going to tighten and tighten until the whips burst through and bisected the Eva through the waist. Siegfried realized with growing concern that there was no reason to believe the _Wien_ could regenerate like the Angel.

"Tomas," he said, "I'm really sorry for getting you into this."

Tomas's face drew back in an uneasy smile. "Well, thanks for the apology." Despite his obvious terror, Siegfried could tell he believed he was going to live. He wished he could hold that assumption.

Then the Angel drew back from them, the coils of cutting whip stretching and finally loosening. Reidun had the poleaxe's hook buried in the Angel's torso, and through its one remaining arm it exerted its entire body to pull the hook. Now with more space, the _Wien_ propped its own poleaxe in the ground and levered the spear end into the Angel.

Incredulously Tomas asked, "Is it because your father's an abbot that God looks after us?"

Siegfried didn't respond. Now that the Angel was immobilized, it would be easy to finish off. If only he knew how! It had survived getting its head chopped off, so obviously it could replace anything below that cut. That left the head. The jewel! The last Angel had one too. Whatever it was, it couldn't hurt to try!

Siegfried pulled his poleaxe back between his legs, and thrust the spear-end right into the jewel. A barrier popped up as soon as he started, and it held back the poleaxe. But he kept pushing, and the point inched its way closer, deforming the perfect orange octagons defending the Angel. One more push, and the point moved yet closer. He was definitely on to something; the Angel was expending far more effort defending this jab than it had bothered to put into preventing its own head from being cut off. Tomas was yelling, and Siegfried joined him. With a crash, the spear head burst through the barrier and lodged itself deep into the jewel.

As the Angel flopped onto the shaft of the poleaxe, Siegfried first felt shock: that he had figured out how to end the being's life. Then he was happy, for the same reason. With a smile on his face he took his eyes off the angel and shook the gigantic corpse off of his weapon. And with a burst of light compared to which the whips were dim, the great red orb exploded.

* * *

Fifteen hours had come and gone, and Siegfried and Tomas were still nested in the Eva. When the Angel exploded, the _Wien_ had fallen backwards into the water. Its neck was a few feet off the beach, and the head was not entirely submerged. Nevertheless, the Entry Wound was sealed off by a floor of sand and two feet of water. The only thing to do was wait for rescue.

"So, Tomas," Siegfried asked, "where are you from?" Judging by his dark skin, his top guesses were Sicily, Andalusia, or possibly America. Now that was a thought! He'd heard of the great conquests and vast fortunes the Spanish had made in the new continent, but the stories had been so few and sparse that he had a lot of questions.

Tomas, not visible in the pitch blackness, answered. "I'm from Málaga. Well, actually I'm from Vélez, but nobody knows where that is..."

"I don't know where Málaga is either," Siegfried said. He scooched up to where he thought Tomas's voice was coming from. He was still hoping for America, but it was probably always unlikely.

"It's, you know, in the south of Spain. Andalusia."

"What's that like?"

"Well, it's sunny. It didn't snow in the region even before '55. Have you ever went out in the water here?" he asked.

"Why would I do that? It's cold and I can't swim."

"Back home, the sea's nice and warm. Vélez is only a few miles from the coast, so whenever I could I'd go swimming."

"Sounds nice." Siegfried really didn't care about swimming, but Tomas sounded like he enjoyed it.

"Yeah."

"Hey, Siegfried. Hit me," Tomas said.

"Why would I do that?" Siegfried bewilderedly asked.

"I've, you know, sort of been blaming you for what happened to Kenneth. But I don't think it was really your fault."

"I'm sorry," said Siegfried.

"Oh, don't be."

Siegfried said, "Honestly, you should really be hitting me..." He aimed at where he thought Tomas's voice was coming from, and missed. His fist dug into the wall of the chamber, where it took some effort to extricate. Tomas laughed until Siegfried got his hand out and hit him on the second try.

* * *

On land, a colossal endeavor was coming to completion. After the Angel exploded, emissaries were sent out for miles throughout the Duchy of Pomerania to find villages. Using the Abbey's special Imperial privilege of conscription throughout that duchy, a couple thousand peasant laborers were mobilized and gathered outside of Stettin-Drei. Long, thick ropes made for this purpose were dragged out of storage and given to the draftees. After some brief drill to make sure they understood what they were to do, they went over to the _Wien_ , its face an island in the Baltic Sea. The ropes were tied around strategic points, and with several concerted pulls the Evangelion was tugged onto dry land. They were re-positioned, and the giant unconscious beast was flipped on its back.

Marcellus yelled out some final commands. "Okay, stop pulling! Now the closest twenty people on each rope, rotate the loop so the rope is pointed in the same direction as the head! I'm going in; when I come out be prepared to pull again!" He and two other Order brothers climbed the EVA's ribcage, bringing a rope and a torch with them. Once they were at the Entry Wound, the two others tied the rope around Marcellus's waist and crotch and lowered him into the EVA. He lit the torch, which shone brightly into the pit. The Cord was revealed, and the festerings of the Wound's walls were unfortunately brought to light, but the Child wasn't visible. Marcellus signaled to be let down further.

Soon enough, he caught a glimpse of hair, mostly blocked by the Cord, and then a waving hand. Marcellus descended to the bottom of the Wound, clinging to the sides of the chamber. As he saw both Siegfried and Tomas, he smiled joyfully.

"So this is where you ran off to!" the monk exclaimed.

"Sorry sir, it's all my fault sir!" Siegfried gasped.

"Who cares about that, my man? You won!" Marcellus could tell the boy didn't believe it, but there was no way he would be punished for whatever mishap brought Tomas in here. He himself was just happy that he, Marcellus Herzener, had been the one to find him. Although of course he wouldn't tell the boys, he had a bet with Oberdorfer that Tomas was outside of the geofront, rather than inside it. He now had ten more thalers to his name. But that could wait until he got them out of here. As there were two of them, they would need to be pulled up in two trips. Tomas, as the larger of the two Children, went up first, to the shock of the rope-pullers. Marcellus and Siegfried were brought up next, and they all descended the EVA.

[1] The Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire was elected by seven Electors, four of whom were lords of important domains and three of whom were bishops. The states with electorates were Mainz, Trier, and Cologne (the bishoprics), Bohemia, the Palatinate, Saxony, and Brandenburg. This setup, dating back to 1257 AD, caused much tension from the Reformation up to the 30 years war as the latter three electors converted to Protestantism, Bohemia was held by the ruling Habsburg family, and the bishops of Mainz, Trier, and Cologne were appointed by the Pope.

[2] ¾ Plate armor would generally consist of a helmet with a visor and bevor, a breastplate and backplate, and protection for the shoulders, arms, thighs, and knees.

[3] Plate armor was quite cheap during the 16th century. In addition to technological-based increases in productivity, many armormakers began to mass-produce "Munition" armors which were made to equip large numbers of infantrymen in a tercio. The impetus behind the mass-equipment of soldiers in plate was the rise of gunpowder on the battlefield. If an arquebusier could hit an enemy soldier, his weapon could hit with lethal force from 100 yards away. But if the enemy soldier was wearing any sort of plate armor, that killing distance would be reduced to 30 yards.

[4] A Reichsthaler would be approximately a week of pay for an unskilled laborer living in Konstantiniyye at the time.

[5] Soldiers in the Early Modern era were quite old compared to modern soldiers. In one company of the Spanish Army of Flanders between 1596 and 1599, about half of the soldiers were above the age of 31. 20 percent were above the age of 40, and one of the soldiers (in a company of 379 men) was an astounding 80 years old. These veterans were vital to the functioning of any proper unit.


	4. Baptism at the Age of Reason

October 20, 1570

When the Entry Wounds were dug into the EVAs, large chunks of flesh were exposed to the elements. Every day, they had to be scrubbed thoroughly with high-proof spirits to keep the infection and stench down [1]. However this process made the entire cockpit smell of alcohol, and it was said that for those truly desperate standing in the Entry Wound for long enough was a decent substitute for beer. The duty of scrubbing went to a rotation of pairs of the Children and other novice monks in Stettin-Drei. Today, the pair assigned to the Trent was Siegfried von Ingolschen and Tomas Socarras.

Tomas couldn't imagine anything less appealing than this duty. It took nearly two hours to do, and it made his hands feel like mush. Even after a year he still couldn't judge how much scrubbing to apply to each square foot. Even once he finished scrubbing, he never felt any sense of accomplishment, just a vague, bland worry that he hadn't scrubbed enough. Really, everything was beginning to become bland. Nothing new had entered his life since Siegfried, and the Croatian sort of faded into the background most of the time so he was easy to forget. Siegfried never talked while he worked except when he was talked to, although Tomas desperately wished he would. Because when he was in the tunnel and no-one was making any noise, it felt like the thing would collapse in on itself and swallow him. He lifted the rag over his face and called to Siegfried, "You know what we should do?"

"What do you mean?" responded Siegfried, his voice muffled under his own rag.

Tomas said, "You can't swim, right?"

"No," Siegfried admitted [2]. Tomas wasn't scrubbing; Siegfried wished he would get back at it so the two of them would be done quicker.

Tomas asked, "After we get done, want me to teach you? We can do it in the Cord."

Siegfried tried to deflect the question by making a noncommittal grunt, but Tomas persisted.

"Come on, you know we'll have time for it," he said.

Siegfried asked, "Why the Cord?"

"One, it's warmer than the seawater," Tomas said. "Two, it's safer than the sea, because we can breathe the water inside. Three, we're already here, aren't we?"

Siegfried felt like accepting would be a bad idea, but he found it hard to refuse. If he did Tomas would probably bring it up again sometime later, and he didn't want to have the issue floating between them. To sate his roommate, he quickly agreed and went back to work. While it was tedious and tiresome, Siegfried really did prefer the quiet work to conversation. Having Tomas around still was a help, though. Without him around, he would be crushed by the lonesomeness, and the tunnel would feel even more tight and foreign than it already did. Only a quarter hour later, the work was finished, and the two boys were lined up in front of the Cord. With a deep breath, they ran into it.

They also ran into the Reserve Child inside. He nearly fell out, but managed to stay floating a few inches from Tomas and Siegfried Quite surprised, he asked, "What brings you here, herren?

"We're going swimming, Hans," said Tomas. Siegfried cringed; there was no way they would get away with this. Regrets swelled to the surface of his thoughts as they always did.

"But why?" Hans asked confusedly.

Tomas said truthfully, "Siegfried doesn't know, so I'm teaching him. And this is warmer and safer than doing it in the ocean."

"Herr, uh, Herr Socarras. Are you sure you have permission for this lesson?"

"Why would I need permission for something like this?" Tomas asked. "Neither of us have to be anywhere else for, I think, an hour or so. It's perfectly safe. And learning to swim never hurt anyone."

Hans's face oozed suspicion. "Do you really need to swim, Herren? So badly that you can't wait to ask permission?" He couldn't swim, of course. Perhaps, Tomas thought, if he knew what swimming was beyond a purely academic sense, the water would soak into his ass and loosen it enough for the stick to come out.

Tomas also didn't like how Hans kept calling him 'Herr'. His father was a roofer, not a nobleman. And Siegfried was a sort of bastard, which raised questions about protocol that would probably be interesting to Kenneth. Forcefully he pleaded, "Can't you just let us through? We're just trying to do something useful while we're on break. Why are you against that?"

"I'm not against that," Hans protested, "but shouldn't you go make sure it's allowed?"

Tomas said, "Come on! Anyone who can give us permission is miles away. By the time we get there and back we won't be able to do anything."

Siegfried offered, "Maybe we could do this some other time?"

"Look, I went in with Siegfried during the battle with the second Angel and nothing happened. Except for the battle, of course. We'll go down into the lower part, and you stay up here and keep this thing good. Is that okay?" Tomas asked. He said that like it was a compromise, but he had always been planning on going down the Cord. There was actually a huge network of these fluid channels in the EVA, and he'd went to explore some of them before. Ultimately it got too dark about thirty feet down, but the catacombs above that line were much better than the cramped tube active pilots spent their time in.

"Alright, I guess we can do this now. We don't really need Hans's permission, do we?" Siegfried conceded. "Sorry," he said to Hans.

"Hey, wait!" Hans yelled. He wasn't obeyed; Tomas and Siegfried went down into the Cord.

About a dozen feet down was a five-foot-diameter branching vessel, which the two boys entered. Tomas showed Siegfried the breaststroke[3] and held him steady while he tried to imitate the movements. Then he had the abbot's son do laps through the vessel, as far down as it remained sufficiently wide. After a few weak and sloppy strokes which were corrected, Siegfried seemed to be enjoying himself, and Tomas himself felt a sort of pride. It was such a shame how few people knew the joys of the water. Until he had come here, Siegfried had probably never gotten close enough to a body of water bigger than the "creek" level to poke with a ten-foot-pole.

Oh shit, Tomas realized. Siegfried had the movements right, but his breathing was all wrong. Specifically, he was breathing completely normally, as if the water was breathable, which of course it was. That would be a serious mistake if he tried it in real water; it might even kill him. "Wait a minute!" he shouted.

At that moment, the course of events spun completely out of Tomas's control. Hans, very bored and somewhat peeved that Siegfried and Tomas hadn't listened to him, had decided to try again at getting the two boys out of the EVA. While he had no idea which branch vessel to look in, Hans heard Tomas's yell. Like a falcon after having spotted prey, he swooped into the branch vessel, and like mice after having spotted a falcon, his audience fled. Tomas ducked into the main vessel, as Hans had overshot him substantially. Siegfried, with Hans standing in between him and that route, went deeper into the vessel, which was navigable for a good distance even though it narrowed further down..

Hans went after Tomas. Struggling against the increasing pressure, the Spaniard pulled himself down the Cord. He felt like his head was going to burst, but he dug his hands into the walls of the Cord and dragged himself down, flailing his legs to assist. Hans pursued in the same way.

Initially Tomas was fleeing as would a deer from a panther, but in time he began to reconsider. Hans was slight in build, slow to anger, and a few inches shorter than he was. There was nothing to fear, really. He turned himself around so he could face Hans.

"What is it?" Tomas asked, as irately as he could manage.

"Why'd you run away from me?" Hans panted. Tomas noticed that the Cord's fluid had become saltier, which meant either Hans or himself were sweating. He had his bets on Hans.

Tomas replied, "I just, you know, got a bit panicked. What brings you down here?" He had a sinking feeling in his heart; if there was an angel attack he'd want to get out of Reidun's EVA as soon as possible to avoid going to battle again. And Siegfried would need to be in his own EVA. And where even was Siegfried?

"Herr Socarras, I wanted to ask you to see if you can get permission, maybe you can do this some other time... Ah!" Hans screamed. His eyes lolled and his mouth opened for a few more seconds of silent noise, and he went limp.

"What's happening? Why are you doing this?" Tomas whispered. No answer issued from Hans's throat. Tomas poked the boy in several places: in the eyes, in the nose, on the neck, on the hand. Still there was no response. Then he noticed the phylactery, which had a faint glow about it. He tucked his fingers under the leather straps and tugged a bit, but it had no more success in waking up Hans than his earlier efforts. He slid his fingers along the straps, reaching the small box at the apex of Hans's forehead. It was pleasantly warm like bread fresh from the oven, but touching it he felt a feeling of sudden trepidation and foreboding. His heartbeat increased to where it seemed it would burst, and although he began sweating profusely a chill as cold as the pre-Impact winter he'd never witnessed came about him. He pulled his hand away, and the feeling and chill left him. At just that moment Siegfried emerged from one of the branch vessels.

"Hail, fellow," said Siegfried.

"Good to see you," Tomas grunted. Although he was a little distracted, he realized that if Siegfried had come from that vessel there would have to be shortcuts through the branch network. He resolved to look for some the next time he could.

"What happened to Hans?" Siegfried asked.

"I don't know," Tomas admitted. It occurred to him that the phylactery might be the cause, but he wanted it to be just a side-effect of something else that had taken out Hans. Through a series of jumped-to conclusions, Tomas convinced himself that was the case.

Siegfried measured the pulse on the unconscious boy's finger. "He's still alive," he said.

Tomas was a bit ashamed; it had never occurred to him to check. But at least he wasn't dead; if Hans died he might very well follow him shortly. "Let's get him out of here," he said.

Siegfried was horrified, and it showed on his face like nothing had shown before. He shouted, "If we do that, the EVA will go berserk!"

"We'll have 20 minutes or so to get something in the Cord, we can probably handle it."

"Well, do you want to do it?" Siegfried taunted.

"No," Tomas admitted, "but Hans needs help!"

"He'll live."

"What is it with you, Siegfried?" Tomas asked. Grabbing Hans's body, he pushed off the floor of a branch vessel and began making his way up. But as he rose, Siegfried grabbed his foot.

"Let go!" Tomas demanded. Surprise showed on all his features; this wasn't like Siegfried. Normally he would go along with whatever he did, although sometimes with some reluctance or argument. Tomas tried to pull himself up, but with only one free hand he couldn't get very far. Siegfried felt much heavier than he should have, accounting for his buoyancy in the water. He wasn't holding onto anything, but his feet were practically anchored in. He tried to shake loose, but the Croatian's grip was tight and his fingernails dug into his ankle. On a second try, the nails breached his skin, and a trickle of red leaked into the clear fluid of the Cord.

In pain Tomas yelled, "S'wounds [4], Siegfried! Let go already!" When he did not, Tomas changed tack. With a heave, he pulled himself by his grabbed leg to propel his other foot into Siegfried's face. The boy's grip loosened, and after another kick in the face it slipped completely. Tomas was free, and with Hans under his arm he ascended the Cord. Halfway up he looked back, and Siegfried was no longer there.

* * *

Siegfried was waiting in the Cord's antechamber. Hans had startled him, so he'd fled into the deeper parts of the branch vessel, but when Hans had went after Tomas he'd came back out. He was waiting in the chamber because he figured no matter what they got up to, eventually they would leave the EVA, and they'd have to go through here to do that. Waiting for them to tire each other out was simply less effort, both physically and mentally. Tomas was usually more sedentary and passive; Siegfried liked him better that way. But every once in a while, he got an idea, or he got really bored, and then he was pushy and restless like he was today. When he was like that, the only thing to do was to wait until he satisfied himself. And hey, the swimming lessons were fun while they lasted.

Tomas fell out of the Cord and into Siegfried's lap, bowling him over. Hans's prone figure flopped off to the left.

"Watch your damned step," Siegfried said irately.

Tomas looked confused for some reason. But Siegfried's eyes focused towards the limp body laying next to him.

"Hans! What in the name of God's dick did you have to go kill him for?"

Tomas was surprised for some reason. Wasn't this the most likely place in the EVA for him to be? The boy protested, "He's not dead."

"Then what happened to him?" Siegfried asked.

Tomas told Siegfried what had happened down in the Cord, although he left out his attempt to remove the phylactery as he was scared to think about it. The abbot's son was irritated at how things had went at first, but he became more intrigued when 'he' showed up. If the EVA could make Tomas think he was down there, could anything near it be trusted? Maybe Tomas was just an illusion. But if he was an illusion, then there was no reason to believe his story about what happened down in the Cord, and thus there was no reason to believe he was an illusion. He silently prayed to God that he may be saved from any further paradoxes.

"Yeah, I definitely wasn't there for that," Siegfried said.

"Good," Tomas said. "But you know, I think you were right about this being my fault."

"Woah, I'm sorry I said that. I didn't know what'd happened down there," Siegfried warned. In fact he was somewhat ashamed that he had even jumped to that conclusion.

"Who had the idea of going swimming in the EVA in the first place? Who led Hans down to the depths?"

Siegfried couldn't stand watching his friend be so hard on himself, and he tried to reassure him. "Come on, it's not necessarily your fault," Siegfried said. But Tomas looked the opposite of convinced. Siegfried elaborated, "Anything could have knocked Hans out. Who's to say the Eva wouldn't have done it even if we weren't there? Or maybe it wasn't even related to the Eva at all! Bad things just happen sometimes."

"Sometimes bad things just happen, but something always causes them to happen!" Tomas said angrily. "This never happened before, and now it did. This time I led him down there, and that's why this happened now. You're just saying this because if it's my fault, then it's your fault too!"

"What? No!"

"You could have stopped me; I wouldn't have done this without you," Tomas pointed out.

Siegfried saw his point somewhat, but he didn't want to have the fiasco blamed on him, so he deflected. "That's ridiculous. But before we assign the blame, shouldn't we try to get Hans to, oh, someone who can help him?"

Tomas was willing to change the subject. "But if we take him too far from the EVA, it'll go berserk," he said.

"Good point," Siegfried admitted. He pried the phylactery off Hans's head and placed it on his own.

"WAIT!" Tomas screamed as he did so, but Siegfried didn't hear him in time to listen. The band, adjusted for Hans's head which was bigger than his own, slid down in the back, but stayed above eye level in the front. As it settled, Siegfried stuck his head in the Cord to check that it had synchronized. The grassy expanse and the few people that he saw proved it had, but then his vision shifted to a field of pitch black and he felt the sensation of falling...

* * *

Siegfried landed hard on his right side, but he still couldn't see a thing. He waved his arms in front of him, but they were invisible to his eyes. He knew they were still there because his right forearm felt broken. It wasn't painful, but it felt like part of the arm was dangling and might fall off. He searched for something to use as a sling, but nothing was visible and he wasn't wearing enough clothing for it to be useful. The floor felt flat, and his feet didn't meet any objects. It was also smooth, very smooth, and cold, but there was somehow plenty of traction. It registered that not only was the floor chilly, but the air was also, and Siegfried's naked skin took the full force of the cold. Siegfried curled up in a deep squat, cradling his broken arm and trying to use it and his legs to insulate his body. After a short while, he was alerted by a sudden flash of light.

This flash persisted, and the room warmed to a comfortable temperature. Soft female hands grabbed Siegfried by the shoulders and pulled him up against a wall. He tried to cover his private parts, but the grip was strong and dragged his arms away. The hands then grabbed his broken arm and stuffed it back into the elbow. Miraculously, the bones slotted perfectly into each other, and the muscles and tendons wove right back together. When the hands dropped him, he fell into a comfortable chair, which he could not see even though there was now light. In fact, the whole room still seemed like a nondescript void. The floor was black, and the walls were not apparent. There truly was nothing else but Siegfried in this place. He peeked behind the chair, but where the hands were they now weren't. A voice now boomed from somewhere, or everywhere.

"Who are you?" it asked. The voice was female, but it had a harshness to it.

Siegfried tried to disappear into the chair, but it was useless. With a series of voice cracks he said, "Siegfried von Ingolschen, m-madame!"

"What do you do, Siegfried von Ingolschen? Do you own land?"

It was an odd question. Did the von make her think he was a noble? If she asked, how could he really answer? Now that she had him in her clutches, would she try to ransom him [5]? "N-no, I don't own land," he confessed. "I work for the Order of St Gerbert of Aurillac." If he made himself seem like a pawn, then hopefully she would think him not worth holding. And hopefully then she would let him go rather than kill him.

The voice asked, "What do you do for the Order?"

If she knew what he did, she would definitely want to hold him here. On the other hand, he wasn't a very good liar, and lying to this woman seemed unwise. Either way, the jig was up. "I pilot the 2nd EVA, the Wien," Siegfried admitted.

"Then you have killed two of the sea beasts. That is very good. In the future you should kill more," she said.

Siegfried blushed. "Th-thank you. But really, I only did a little bit. Other people deserve more credit."

"Really. Who are these people?" the voice questioned.

"For one, Marcellus made the plans for both Angels. I just carried them out."

"No one can make a plan that isn't dependent on the people carrying it out. Both plans succeeded only because of the execution. In fact, neither Angel was dispatched the way they were planned to be," she pointed out.

"I never could have won without Reidun by my side," Siegfried offered.

The female voice laughed. "Which Reidun do you mean? Reidun von Ingolschen?" She stopped laughing. "Please," she snarled.

Did Reidun share his last name? Why in God's name would she? As far as he knew, they weren't related. If they were, someone would have said something, they would have made a comment, they would have given hints. And Tomas wasn't the type to hide something, at least not for so long. It had to be a trick.

"I did not bring you here to talk nonsense," she continued.

"Then why did you bring me here?" Siegfried asked angrily. He knew it wasn't advisable to talk back to the lady who held him captive, but the sound of her voice was growing intolerable.

"I only want to learn more about you. And this order, and what lies beyond the order," she said.

"Are you a spy for the Protestants?" Siegfried asked. While such a supernatural means of abduction would normally be beyond their means, the Protestants were known to consort with the devil[6]. Such a figure could easily be behind all the troubles going on.

The voice exclaimed, "I have been called many things, but this is a first! No, I am a Christian, like you. I am your sister in Christ, and all I ask is some information which anyone around you already knows. Why won't you indulge me?"

Of course, if she was a demon (perhaps a succubus[7]?) she would have no hesitation in falsely claiming to be a Christian. "Where the hell am I?" Siegfried asked in response.

She said, "You know where you are." But he didn't. Why was she toying with him?

Siegfried asked, "Did you abduct Hans?" On this question he really had no doubt; he had put together the pieces and the conclusion was inescapable.

"I didn't abduct anyone," the voice said. "How many people would you say are in the Order?"

"That's a lie! You used the phylactery to kidnap anyone who was wearing it!" As Siegfried finished his outburst, he sank back into his "chair", and his indignation faded back into dread.

"If you answer my questions, I won't do it again," she said. Although the woman wasn't visible Siegfried could tell she was rolling her eyes.

"And will you let me go?" Siegfried asked.

"There's no reason for me not to," the voice said.

No one could fault Siegfried for giving this mysterious lady what she wanted, he thought. If she wanted to kill him, she could. If he complied with her, he would live. It was an easy choice. "In my opinion, there are somewhere between five hundred to a thousand people in the order, most being laity and about one hundred being monks," he said. He wasn't sure if it was true, but it sounded about right.

"Who is the abbot?"

"Gerhard von Ingolschen."

"Is he in good health?"

"I think so."

"What position is Rolanda Acquisto in?"

"She's head of the research and maintenance for the EVAs. I don't think I can remember her exact title."

The questions and answers went on for some time before the female voice announced that he was free to go. "But you must never speak of what happened here," she said. With a moment's consideration, the abbot's son agreed to stay silent and asked to leave. The chair disintegrated, and Siegfried once more fell through the floor.

* * *

This time he did not land, although with the cold wind biting through his skin he almost wanted to hit the ground. He remained falling for hours before he woke up. When he did, Tomas was standing over him.

"What happened?" Siegfried asked.

"I got Acquisto, and she gave the EVA a drug that'll keep it asleep for days. Some dose bled over, she said. But it's safe now. She's looking at the phylactery. Are you good?"

It took a while for Siegfried to register what he had said. But if Acquisto had gotten involved... "Shit, she's going to kill us, isn't she!" Siegfried exclaimed.

"She doesn't know about what we did," Tomas reassured him. "Hans and I decided not to tell her." Hans was taken by that woman too. Had he told Tomas about what had happened?

"You lied," Siegfried complained. "What if she finds out?"

Tomas said, "It'll be fine. Let's just move on, alright?" He definitely didn't know what had happened. He still thought of the whole fiasco as his own fault, and admittedly from his perspective it probably looked that way. But the woman in the EVA had practically admitted that she had used the phylactery to kidnap Hans and himself. Could anything he and Tomas did really have provoked what she did?

"I suppose I will," Siegfried said. He folded his hands and prayed. "Oh Lord in Heaven, thank you for rescuing me. So many things could happen to me, and many things could kill me, and I could be subjected to so much more torment. With Your help I am saved. I may not be worthy of You, but I am grateful. Amen."

"Amen," Tomas repeated.

* * *

[1] Germs were not known in the 16th century, and they wouldn't be discovered until the 19th. However, the concept of an infection was known, even if it was misinterpreted. An example of one such misinterpretation happened with the advent of widespread use of firearms. Many infections resulted from gunpowder wounds, and many gruesome amputations followed. As a result, surgeons began to see gunpowder as a poison that was causing wounds to become sceptic. (It wasn't.) They fought infection by cauterizing all gunpowder wounds with fire or hot oil, resulting in untold unnecessary suffering by soldiers. But the great surgeon Ambroise Paré, during a 1537 campaign in Italy where logistics were poor and oil wasn't to be had, was forced to treat his soldiers without cauterization. He noticed that his patients healed better than the ones he had cauterized previously, and he vowed to never again cauterize another gunshot victim. He published his findings regarding gunshot wounds in 1545. This incident also speaks to a more "scientific" outlook among surgeons, compared to the "philosophical" approach of actual trained doctors. But then again, it was the surgeons' trial-and-error that had made cauterization of shot wounds a thing in the first place.

The actual doctors believed that infection was caused by "sepsis", which was supposedly found in the gut and in miasma. Miasma was believed to cause almost everything, and was a vapor originating from smelly things, such as swamps or other unhygienic places. Regardless of theory though, alcohol has been recognized as a disinfectant since ancient Sumer, and it would be one of the more effective of such agents in the Early Modern toolkit.

[2] Before modern times, most Europeans could not swim. (This doesn't seem to be universal to humans at the time; Fijians, for example, had widespread ability to swim even in the inland regions.) Swimmers were concentrated on major bodies of water, especially the coasts of the warmer regions.

[3] The breaststroke was the dominant stroke up until the advent of competitive swimming as a sport in the late 19th century. It was the only stroke used in the earliest competitions, and the freestyle/crawl is considered to have been first performed (by a white person; there are records of Native Americans using what appears to be the freestyle much earlier) in the 1924 Olympics.

[4] "S'wounds" is an abbreviation for, "God's wounds", that is, the wounds Jesus received from being nailed onto the cross. Invoking these wounds was considered as taking the Lord's name in vain, and as such was about as "edgy" as the word "fuck" is today.

[5] Taking noble hostages was a common practice in the Middle Ages. Their ransoms could provide a good amount of money to whomever could take the hostages. For example, King Atahualpa of the Incas, being captured by the Spaniards, gave a ransom of an entire room full of gold and two smaller rooms full of silver. Today this amount would reach the hundreds of millions, if not billions. One fifth of this treasure was reserved for the Spanish crown, as proscribed by law. In a cruel twist of fate, Atahualpa was executed shortly afterwards for, among other crimes, squandering public revenue.

[6] Many Catholics believed that Martin Luther consorted with the devil. There are several 16th century political cartoons that depict the devil marrying Martin Luther, playing his skull like a bagpipe, etc. Political discourse was not nearly as polite then as it is now. What makes this charge interesting is that Martin Luther himself claimed to speak (and have theological arguments) with Satan on a regular basis. He claimed that Satan was a much better theologian than his normal theological enemies, and he admitted to losing some arguments to him. But during another nighttime debate, he said (according to himself), "Devil, I have to sleep now. That is God's commandment, for us to work by day and sleep at night. If you keep on nagging me and trot out my sins, then I answer: Sweet devil, I know the whole list. But I have done even more sin which is not on your list. Write there also that I have shit in my breeches. Hang it around your neck and wipe your mouth on it. Then, if you won't cease to accuse me of sins, I say in contempt: Holy Satan, pray for me."

[7] The Succubus myth was already old in the 16th century, but new life was breathed into it by the Malleus Maleficarum, which claimed to expose the methods of witches and was the second-best selling book in England for almost two centuries (For that period of time the best-selling book was the Bible). This book solidified the modern succubus myth, which before was much more diverse. For example, Gerbert of Aurillac, the sainted medieval pope for whom this fic's Order is named, was supposed to have ascended to the papacy with the help of a succubus named Meridiana. Assuming this story isn't wild hearsay by provincial courtiers with too much time on their hands (ie Walter Map), this succubus never tried to drain St. Gerbert's essence, and in fact warned him that he would die after reading mass in Jerusalem. He never went to Jerusalem, but he did read mass in the Basilica of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem (located in Rome); after he realized his error he supposedly repented and died shortly thereafter. In reality it's probably all made up.

[8] I've changed many of the characters' names for the setting, and I have also gender-flipped some. My reasons for the latter are my own. A review has asked me elucidate the name-changes, so I will.

Siegfried von Ingolschen = Shinji Ikari

Gerhard von Ingolschen = Gendo Ikari

Rolanda Acquisto = Ritsuko Akagi

Reidun = Rei Ayanami

Tomas Soccaras = Toji Suzuhara

Kenneth Adelton = Kensuke Aida

Hans Hentzer = Hikari Horaki

Marcellus Herzener = Misato Katsuragi

Siegfried Oberdorfer = Shigeru Aoba

Unit-00 = Trent

Unit-01 = Wien


	5. Trust in God But Tie your Camel

October 22, 1570

 _Dear Nikita Romanovich Zakharin-Yuriev_

 _I am sending you this letter because you must act urgently. I am writing from Pressburg, where my epigoni and I conducted interviews with a number of merchants from Buda and with one who was coming up from Constantinople. They are all blinded by optimism and remain blissfully unaware of the danger we face, but danger we face indeed. The Pashas are hiring Gönüllüs, and the Akinjis more men,_ [1] _on a scale unprecedented since the Act of God, and grain and materiel are being stored in great warehouses throughout the Balkans. The Pasha of Buda has led several expeditions to suppress the Hungarian rebels, settling Serbs in the areas they once controlled, all while they entreat to the Hungarian lords in the Habsburg part of Hungary. I fear the long period of relative peace the frontier of Christendom has enjoyed is coming to an end._

 _If I am correct, our men in Constantinople have either lost political favor, died, or most likely both. Thus, I have decided to ignore the restrictions they gave during our last meeting with them (I'm sure you will be pleased). You are to assemble a force for use against the Tatars, and you will strike once war between the Habsburgs and the Ottomans has been declared. While Kazan is the main target, it is critical that you at least make raids into Crimean and Astrakhani territory_ [2] _. I will go to Vienna to give warnings, and then I will go to Valladolid_ [3] _to coordinate with our men there. As they are believed to still possess the third Evangelion, I will also send a man to confirm its presence and track its movements; for redundancy's sake I suggest you should as well._

 _Ugo Cardinal Boncompagni_

* * *

Siegfried ran after Reidun, yelling at her to stop. She ignored the first few calls, but then stopped and turned around. The two had just finished training in the Evangelions, and she was looking forward to lunch. Recently the cooks had been on a run of uncharacteristically good food (the meat was only somewhat overcooked, the bread hadn't been stale, and the beer was less watered-down). Reidun hoped this trend would continue, but at the same time she was worried about what might happen if it did. The boys had developed such an appetite for the new, better food that they were now requesting second helpings, and sometimes even thirds. If the food was better, they would eat even more, and then they would get fat, and then they would be unable to repel the Angels, and then divine intervention would be necessary. The food would have to be made worse than ever, to bring the decadent wastrels back onto the path of temperance and moderation. But it was all out of her hands, so Reidun only hoped the food would still be good today. As Siegfried came closer to her, she began walking again; she would not be delayed by whatever he had to say.

"Reidun," Siegfried asked, "How are you doing? You did well today." Reidun could tell he had meant to say something else but had chickened out.

"I am feeling well, but I haven't done anything notable today," she said.

"That's not true! You're always so much better at me in the drills," Siegfried said. He emphasized, "Always!"

The drills they went through in the EVAs were simple, and it really wasn't possible to do "notably" well in them. Even if it was, Reidun didn't think she was that much better at them than Siegfried. In some of them he in fact was better. It was flattery, another sign of the decadence brought on by overly well-tasting food. "If I always am better than you, then it is not notable," she said.

"I have a question for you," Siegfried said.

Hopefully this would be what he had come here to say. If he didn't get it over with soon enough, they would have to sit together at lunch. "Ask," she replied.

"I've been around you so long, and I, well, I haven't gotten to know you all that well."

"And?"

"What's your last name?" Siegfried asked.

"My surname is Ásmóðrsdóttir," Reidun said.

Siegfried tried saying the name a few times in his head. "I can't pronounce that, and I just heard you say it," he complained. But no matter how the name was pronounced, it was definitely not pronounced 'Von Ingolschen'. It was relieving not to have to worry about that. On the other hand, that woman from the EVA yesterday had lied to him, and he'd told her the truth about everything she'd wanted to know. If people were to find out, there would be embarrassment on top of everything else.

"It's Icelandic," Reidun said. They were in the dining hall now, and the place was crowded as it usually was at this time of the day. The food line was long, and they were squeezed in between Kenneth and a short monk whom Marcellus sometimes seconded to help him carry out training exercises.

"You're from Iceland?" Kenneth said, forcing himself into the conversation. "Wasn't that the place that was hit hardest by the Act of God?"

"Yes, around two-thirds of the population died after the Act of God," Reidun said. "But now that there's no winter there and farming is possible year-round, the population is booming. In ten years it will be up to the level before the Act. But I've actually never been there. I was born in Copenhagen." Reidun had in fact been to Iceland before, and she'd always been interested in its culture and history. Since the Norse came there had been terrible famines, brutal war, and so many deaths, but the island stayed intact. It was like a microcosm of the Earth.

"So you don't miss it?" Siegfried asked.

"No," said Reidun.

Kenneth asked, "How long have you been here?"

"Five years," Reidun replied.

That was the longest time of any of the Children; the first one aside from her had come in March. Kenneth had come in April, and Tomas had arrived towards the end of July. Most of them just assumed Reidun had been there forever. "Do you think we'll be here for that long?" Siegfried asked.

Reidun said, "No, once the Angels are defeated you will be dismissed. Although you will return home as heroes, and the Vatican will pay for your educations."

"When this is done I'll probably apply to become a novice here," Kenneth said. "My parents are dead, and it's not very healthy to be a Catholic back in England." [4]

"Sorry about your parents," Siegfried said. He felt sort of ashamed for not knowing about them. Everyone in the complex knew his own family situation; some had strong opinions about it. Although in that case, it wasn't really his fault.

"Don't worry, you didn't kill them." Kenneth winked. "Or did you?"

Initially missing the joke, Siegfried backed up and put his arms in front of him. Then he rushed back to his spot in the food line. Reidun commented, "Although we all await the answer to whether or not a Croatian villein murdered two people in England without his own knowledge, meals are supposed to be silent. Let us refrain from speaking."

Kenneth said, "Actually, my parents moved to Köln whe-" Reidun shushed him, and he stayed quiet.

Going up to the counter, the three Children each received a plate and a stein. In each stein there was a mixture of two parts beer to one part water, and on each plate there was blutwurst, sauerkraut, stewed turnips, and a slice of bread. They found seats: Kenneth and Siegfried next to each other and Reidun a few seats away and on the other side of the table. As soon as everybody had sat down, and the reader had prayed and begun to read from the bible passage of the day, Reidun formed all the sauerkraut on her plate into a ball and swallowed it whole. In rapid succession she gobbled down the turnips, bread, and the blutwurst. By the time the passage was finished, she was finished with the beer. Taking up her empty plate and stein, she stood to leave.

By that time, Siegfried had only finished about half his beer, most of the sauerkraut, and one slice of blutwurst. After stuffing the bread and remaining blutwurst in his pocket, he stood to follow Reidun. Kenneth shoved the remaining food onto his own plate and bid Siegfried adieu with a thumbs up and a smile.

Did Kenneth think he was trying to... go after Reidun? Romantically? He just wanted to ask Reidun another question. Although...

Seeing her back as he left the dining hall, Siegfried ran after Reidun and caught up with her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. But as she faced him down, his words evaporated in his throat and refused to come out. For a minute they faced each other silently, Siegfried stuttering occasionally and Reidun blinking once or twice.

"Do you have anything to say?" Reidun finally offered.

"No, ah, yes. What do you think about the Angels?" asked Sigfried.

"I'm against them," said Reidun.

Siegfried asked, "Anything else?"

"The Angels are a blight on humanity. If we kill them all, they won't be. So we should kill them all."

"Maybe it's a threat to Pommerners, but it can't be that big a problem for humanity, you know, as a whole. Couldn't we just evacuate everyone in the area?", Siegfried mused. As an afterthought he added, "What have they ever actually done to us, anyway?"

"The Angels are indeed an existential threat to every human being; evacuation wouldn't work. Already they have begun to despoil the Earth."

"Now, I know you probably won't explain that-"

"Correct," Reidun confirmed.

"But I wanted to ask you how you feel about fighting them," Siegfried said.

"What do you mean?" Reidun asked.

"Aren't you afraid one of them will kill you?" When the Second Angel tore Reidun's arm off, Siegfried had been certain she was dead. Although she had survived, Siegfried assumed that wouldn't last forever. His Croatian parents had had three boys; all strong, brave, and pious. They'd all died before he was born, fighting Turks. Thus he'd been told, "He who presents his life to the enemy, will eventually relinquish it."

"What do you mean? I'm only one human, of millions. Could any true Christian fear his own death so much as to run away from saving others?" These were bold words; if Reidun developed her rhetorical talent she could make well from it. But in truth, she simply didn't believe she would die fighting the Angels. As long as God and Gerhard watched over her, she had faith in her safety. Her bravado was aimed at Siegfried.

Siegfried, who did fear his own death, left without responding. Reidun kept watch on him until he disappeared into the barracks, then went off faster than she had been going before. Gerhard had a lot of work today, and it would be best if she got there as soon as possible to assist him.

* * *

October 26, 1570

The call came stealthily; Siegfried never had the opportunity to object to it even if he had the guts to. It was a fairly normal Sunday noon, and the boy was grateful that his EVA time was cut short for church. While Gerhard was saying Mass, he got a tap on the shoulder and a whisper in his ear, "Come with me". With no idea as to why he was being called, Siegfried ducked his head and escaped the pews. When he finally stopped worrying about being noticed leaving, he noticed that his summoner was Oberdorfer, the Order's other Siegfried. "What is it?" von Ingolschen whispered.

"We think we've sighted an Angel," came the reply in sotto voce.

A jolt went through von Ingolschen. "Now? During Mass?" he protested.

Oberdorfer confirmed grimly, "The devil works in the most inconvenient ways."

"You said you think you saw one. Does that mean there might not be one?" von Ingolschen asked.

"Come and see," said Oberdorfer.

The two Siegfrieds went up the long set of stairs to the viewing platform. Standing there with a telescope [5] by her side was Rolanda Acquisto. Rolanda was staring off into the distance, and another woman (Rolanda's second assistant; they had met before but barely knew each other) was looking at the telescope. Oberdorfer asked her to let the pilot look into the telescope, and she obliged. "Come and see," she instructed.

What he saw was small even with the magnifying effect of the miraculous new technology that was the telescope, but there was no mistaking it. Floating in the sky a ways away, somewhere over the Baltic Sea, was a gigantic octahedron. It was blue, looked somewhat reflective, and to Siegfried didn't look all that threatening from a distance. Of course, if it was an Angel, his initial judgement would most likely be far off. Silently he prayed it would just go away.

"Maja [6], has the thing come closer since I left?" Oberdorfer asked.

"I'm afraid it has," Rolanda's second assistant (Maja was her name, Siegfried now remembered) replied.

Marcellus appeared at the top of the stairs. "I've got Reidun," he panted as the girl passed him.

"Good. Come and see this, Reidun," Rolanda said. Reidun went to the edge of the overlook, but she didn't make a movement for the telescope. Instead she stared off into the distance. A look that almost seemed startled came over her face.

"Is that an octahedron?" she asked.

"Yes," Rolanda admitted. Sometimes Reidun astounded even her. The thing was closer to Sweden than Germany, if the calculations were correct.

"So we all see it," Marcellus said. "The question is, what is it, and how do we defeat it?"

Maja chided him, "For all we know, it might not be an Angel at -"

"RUN!" someone screamed. It was Reidun; most of the people present hadn't ever heard her screaming voice before. She pushed Rolanda and Siegfried over the side of the overlook, sending them sprawling onto the grass and gravel a few feet below. Marcellus, his old instincts kicking in, ducked for cover on the other side. Oberdorfer grabbed Maja and pulled her off the platform. Everyone who could ran away from the overlook as it began to burst into flames.

At first it looked a ray of light, emanating from the north and illuminating the overlook. Then it became brighter and brighter, until it was too radiant to look at. Everything still on the platform was incinerated, down to the glass lens of the telescope. The whole surrounding area briefly heated to a bit under the boiling point of water. And then it was over.

"Is everybody alright?" Marcellus asked in a quavering, distant voice. The others got up and looked around, but he was on the other side of the destroyed overlook. They considered the question. Altogether, they could be said to have gotten off quite easily. Rolanda and Siegfried (von Ingolschen) were in the worst shape, having fallen face first into the gravel. Their faces and hands were cut and scraped, but their clothing had protected most of their bodies. Everyone had burns on whatever uncovered parts of their bodies had been facing the overlook, but they were more uncomfortable than anything else and no one had blisters. Oberdorfer also had an injury to his metaphorical face, when it was discovered that he'd had his hand on Maja's breast. "Come over here," Marcellus said.

Marcellus was lying prone on the gravel, staring into the distance. "I can't see... someone help me up." Siegfried and Reidun hoisted him by the arms. "It's my fault, I looked at the light. _Dottoressa_ , will this get better?" It was unnerving, the way he looked at Rolanda with his head but not his eyes.

"Yes, in a few minutes it should be better," she assured.

"We should get moving," Reidun said. Her suggestion had the same effect as her more imperative one earlier.

"Ja, we can't let the Angel take aim again," Marcellus added. Unfortunately, all they could do at the moment was make themselves moving targets. If they could get below tree cover they would be safe, but that was fifteen minutes of walking down. Plenty of time for the Angel to wipe them off the face of the Earth. The group moved down the mountain, with Oberdorfer in the lead and Siegfried, Reidun, and Marcellus at the back. Right behind the group, the ground lit up faintly. As everyone ahead of them began running for their lives, Reidun urged Siegfried, "Go ahead. Run. I'll take Marcellus."

Siegfried wanted to refuse, but he bolted off ahead like he was racing the girl. His head-start didn't help him, though, as Reidun soon caught up to him even with Marcellus on her back. A crack came from the Angel's target area; a boulder had exploded. One fragment pelted in their direction, its jagged point tumbling for Reidun's skull. In a momentary peek behind him, Siegfried spotted it. He tackled her, wrapping his arms around her knees, and her body slammed into the earth. The rock buried itself in the dirt ahead. A shower of gravel sprinkled on the three, dirtying their clothes even more. Siegfried was afraid Reidun wouldn't appreciate the danger she'd been in, and the utter confusion on her face initially confirmed the fear. But when Reidun noticed the shrapnel ahead, her expression cleared. "Thank you," the girl mouthed, as she picked herself up.

Now Reidun looked almost as bad as Siegfried. This part of the trail had more soil than gravel, but what gravel there was had been enough to gash up and down the right side of her face, and the soil stained the remaining skin brown. Marcellus, falling on Reidun, was uninjured. He got up before Reidun did, and informed the pilots that his vision was getting better. And then the light shined once more.

This time the light was a hundred feet closer, and the three broke into a sprint. The light followed them, swallowing up first Marcellus, then Siegfried, and then Reidun. "Gott mit uns!" Marcellus cried. But the light continued moving, and Marcellus was the first it passed over. Siegfried and Reidun were also passed over with only a few more sunburns. Marcellus, although he got the least of the burns, was weeping and kneeling to God and wouldn't budge until the light stopped a bit downhill and incinerated a few shrubs.

Once Marcellus was up, the three continued downhill, this time at a run. The Angel was gunning for them, and only God had saved them. Now they only had themselves to confuse the beast's aim. They spread out over the mountainside, although not as much as they should have. No one was willing to let either of the others out of their sight. Reidun on the left, Siegfried on the right, and Marcellus on the trail, they descended.

In short time they caught up to the other Abbey staff. Marcellus urged them to follow at their pace, and another short time later, they were all in the safety of the tree cover. When the Military Order of St. Gerbert of Aurillac's men finally made it to the bottom of the mountain, they witnessed the Angel's most devastating strike yet. This beam was aimed at the viewing platform which had already been hit, and was this time completely obliterated. It knocked a gigantic hole, which must have been over 400 feet wide, into the mountain. As the monks, nuns, and Children re-entered the geofront, they could only hope no one had gone up there since the first beam of light. The only comfort they received was that the Angel did not strike again until it eventually reached Stettin-Drei.

* * *

"So the telescope is broken?" Gerhard asked.

Marcellus was the last to be debriefed. Couldn't the abbot have asked this question to someone else? He replied, "Indeed. Totally destroyed, lens melted, we need a new one." He wasn't mad at Gerhard for asking a question that he already knew the answer to. He was mad at the damned Angel for taking them by surprise and destroying the lookout. At first he had wanted to kill it personally, but he'd calmed down while waiting to be debriefed. The angels were invincible to a mere human; the octahedron was frying them like bugs. He could still kill them, but he would have to use strategy instead of an arquebus. And he would have to put on a calm, cool demeanor to hide his rage.

"Those things are expensive. We don't have the luxury of Moses, of receiving provisions from heaven," Gerhard lectured.

"Although the Spanish would like us to think of their subsidy that way," Marcellus said.

That drew a laugh from Gerhard. "Ha! So who's the golden calf in that case?"

If there was anything Marcellus had learned in years of soldiering (and there were many things he'd learned) it was the value of distracting a superior officer. "If the King of Spain is God, then the Pope is Aaron," he quipped.

"And building Evangelions is the golden calf," He went on, "You wouldn't believe the sorts of letters I get from Rome and Valladolid. I had one from a cardinal suggesting that I could defeat the sea beasts at a much lower price by creating a Christian army equipped with swords and pila. [7] And another from a Spanish courtier threatening to expose my 'perversions and corruption' unless I came up with 50% efficiency savings and gave him a fifth. I tell you, if I was a corrupt pervert, I wouldn't be in crippling debt, and I would also be happier! But that's not the matter we're here to discuss. Why did you let the beast destroy our only mode of reconnaissance?"

"You mean the telescope?" Marcellus asked. Gerhard nodded. "The angel was over a hundred miles away, Father Abbot. We could only see it through a telescope. I believe that is why it targeted us: to eliminate our ability to ascertain its location."

"I see. So now it can catch us by surprise even though it's a gigantic blue octahedron. Fantastic," Gerhard said. "But Siegfried, Reidun, Rolanda, and you were all up on that lookout when the monster struck. If you hadn't survived – actually, how did you survive – the Order would have been decapitated! Are you sure that wasn't its intention?"

Marcellus said, "I do not believe the Angel was aiming for a decapitation strike, because it simply could not have had the intelligence necessary to arrange such a thing." He explained, "Our value comes from how we fit into the broader organization that is the Order. Siegfried would never be a threat to any Angel if he was not the pilot of the Evangelion. Rolanda would be entirely irrelevant to the Angels if she wasn't the research leader. And I would be entirely irrelevant to the Angels if you didn't let me command the Evangelion pilots. The Angel rose from the sea just today, I believe. It's never seen us before and it doesn't know the army it is fighting, only the general location of the force that dispatched its two brethren." Marcellus stared at Gerhard, and received a nod in response. He had a theory that the Angels were aware of each other and of the first pair's deaths. He didn't know enough about the angels (he barely knew anything about the angels) to confirm this theory, but if Gerhard agreed, then it seemed to be on solid ground.

Marcellus continued. "We know the Angel does not know the organizational structure of the Order. While we don't know whether it knows of the connections between humans and Evangelions, we do know it doesn't know which humans are connected to the Evangelions. It also almost certainly doesn't know what assets we have in the mountain, how we plan to use them, or any other defensive measures we might have. It's going in blind. Now, when one force is tactically blind and the other has tactical awareness, the latter will win as long as they are not either comparatively much weaker or massively incompetent. The Angels may be vile animals, but they are cunning enough to realize this fact. So what it's doing is levelling the playing field by making us blind."

"Its total lack of knowledge of our defensive plans is a lot less of a disadvantage if we don't know enough about what it's doing to decide on one," Gerhard observed.

"Yes. It's betting that its strength will be enough to see it through in a blind melee, meaning it's probably quite strong. We need to find another way to reconnoiter it."

"Didn't you say it stopped trying to kill you when you got to the forest?" Gerhard asked.

"Yes. What of it?" Marcellus asked.

"If it can't see us under the tree cover, we could post scouts there, to warn us when it gets closer."

"So we could post teams, maybe four for redundancy, with telescopes in the forest. I'll need twelve men and twelve horses, as well as the telescopes. Do I have permission to acquire them?"

"No," Gerhard said, shaking his head. "We only have one telescope left, and I don't want to risk it. You can gather the men and horses, though."

Marcellus complained, "If we don't use telescopes, we won't be able to see it until it's practically on top of us!"

"But it _will_ come here, so we _will_ be able to see it before it attacks us. It doesn't particularly matter what it does before."

"What it does before... That gives me an idea!" Marcellus shouted. "After we got below the trees, the Angel blasted the lookout again, and put that big hole in. The spot was already destroyed, so the only reason it had to hit it again was to blast a hole to go in through. Meaning, it will most likely go through that hole. If we ambush it there, that's our best shot at killing the Angel."

Gerhard looked skeptical. "Letting the monster into the GeoFront is risky. If it bypasses the Evangelions there, then there are no fallback lines of defense. I don't want to tell you what will happen if the monster breaks through. Are you sure you can't defend further out?

What would happen if the Angel did break through? Gerhard had hinted at the Angels wanting to do or get something in the GeoFront, but what that thing was was completely unclear. Marcellus understood the Angels were a threat, but he believed they were a threat because they would maraud the world in person. "Look, there can be only one line of defense against an Angel like that," he said. "A line of defense against that Angel requires Evangelions to guard it. A wall of rock is no more to the angel than a wall of paper would be to you or I. The line immediately inside the Geofront is the most defensible line of all we could set, because the Angel can't see the EVAs there until they attack. Outside they could."

Gerhard nodded. "Alright, I understand. Get the men, get the horses, and plan your ambush. I will evacuate the geofront. Godspeed!"

* * *

Reidun and Siegfried stood parallel to the entrance to the _Wien_ 's entry shed. In front of them was Marcellus, wrapping up his lecture on the battle plan. After coming back and being debriefed, they barely had time to get their burns looked at before Marcellus took them aside. They were starting to seriously itch now, but Marcellus hadn't paid any heed even though his entire face was beet-red. "Men! Recite your orders!" he belted out.

In that moment, Siegfried could barely suppress a giggle. Men? They were a boy and a girl. And there were only two of them. You could take a soldier out of the army, but not the army out of the soldier... Rei began without him. "We will take positions near the hole in the roof. I will hide at the bottom of the pond."

"And I will go against the wall on the near side of the hole," Siegfried said.

"You'll come in waving a colored flag at some point. If the flag is red, the Angel is headed for the hole. If the flag is blue, it is going around to a different point, and you'll give further instruction. If the flag is green it's stopped being a problem somehow and we go back to the pits."

Siegfried said, "If the flag is red, I'll go up as close to the hole as I can get climbing the stairs. When he comes through, I'll stick him. I'll aim for the center, where the red jewel probably is." He had the first opportunity to slay the Angel, but he didn't for a moment believe he would get it on the first attempt. The idea felt like a massive breach of custom.

"If the Angel comes closer to ground level, I'll rush him the moment the _Wien_ isn't in my way," Reidun said.

"And the rest is up to our own initiative," said Siegfried.

"Yes," Marcellus said. Siegfried looked a little dispirited, and he knew they were all a bit discomfited from the previous angel attack. He knew just how to solve that. "Now, how about an aperitif?" He pulled a bottle of wine and two flagons from his bag.

"No, I will not imbibe of the potion that brought down Holofernes [8]," Reidun said. Siegfried ignored her. He'd only had wine about five times in his life, most of them the last time he was in Stettin-Drei. He and Marcellus each filled their flagons about half-way full and drank. Marcellus had it down in two gulps, and Siegfried had it down in four. It was good; while not as strong as the rakia back in Croatia, it was a lot more alcoholic than the pisswater the Abbey served with meals. On a related note, Siegfried felt much better about the odds of winning this mission. If they were the last line, they couldn't lose, right? Even if neither of the planned ambushes worked, God would make it so that they would win. He couldn't help but thinking, _Is Reidun getting to me?_

Unbeknownst to Siegfried, his distaff partner's doubts about the mission were growing by the minute. She wasn't really worried about Siegfried and Marcellus drinking before the mission, although she wasn't supportive either. So she shut them out of her head. What she was worried about was the Angel. They knew so little about it. It had a powerful long-range attack, and it was octahedral in shape. From that which they knew, a close-up ambush seemed like a good tactic. But the Angel could easily have more tricks up its sleeve. Reidun tried to suppress her doubts. We can win. We will win. All I have to do is my duty.

At last, they got back in formation. Marcellus saluted, Reidun and Siegfried saluted back, and Marcellus dismissed them both. Reidun took off to her own EVA and Siegfried sauntered into his. He waved Jean out and took his seat in the Cord. After a generous wait for Jean to leave the EVA, he stood up and took a good look at the battlefield. The hole in the ceiling, from where the Angel was assumed to be making its entrance, looked even bigger from the inside. That nearly endless set of stairs which had once led to the lookout now petered out before the hole. The top steps looked fragile, but the middle flights seemed sturdy enough to support the EVA for some time. In practically no time at all thanks to the Evangelion's long legs, he took his position near the steps. There was a grassy hill to his 12:00. The hole was to his 10:00, although he was almost under it. He was actually a bit cramped trying to stay within close range of the steps while not being visible from above the hole. To his 2:00 was the pond in which Reidun would hide. It occurred to him that this plan was very similar to the one they had used against the last Angel. The only difference was that last time, he was doing the second ambush, while this time he was going to surprise attack the Angel first. But Reidun was still hiding in water for her part. Behind the pond and to his 3:00 were Order buildings, now evacuated. He would have to keep the fight away from there. And to his 4:00 was the main entrance.

A man on a horse came in waving a red flag. There was only a limited amount of time left. Reidun put herself at the bottom of the pond, and Siegfried pressed himself against the wall. And then it came.

It went through the hole not as the octahedron seen earlier, but as a cone. It went through at an incredible speed, leaving no room for interception. It crashed at the top of the hill. As Siegfried rushed to intercept the Angel, it transformed back into its octahedral form, which was about twice as tall as the EVAs. Its nearest vertex glimmered red for a second, and it fired a beam. But Siegfried dodged, and the beam hit around the middle flights of the stairs and knocked down everything above that point. The Angel then started rising. Before it could gain much height, though, Siegfried stuck his poleaxe's spike overhand into one of its vertices. It was a perfect hit; the poleaxe was aligned precisely with the opposite vertex. Siegfried pushed, and blood oozed onto the Angel's shiny blue exterior. But before he could get to the core, the Angel rolled backwards, sending the EVA tumbling over its top and expelling the poleaxe.

The Angel quickly shot off three blasts. They were miniscule in power compared to the earlier ones, but the first two perforated the _Wien_ 's chest before Siegfried could raise his AT-Field. He prayed those parts weren't as vital to the EVA as they would be to a human. Siegfried attacked as soon as he got his poleaxe back; the Angel was strongest at range and he couldn't let it get too high up in the air. He buried the axehead in one of the Angel's faces and yanked down, but it only pushed up harder. A red glow appeared at its vertex, aimed right for the EVA's neck. Siegfried frantically pulled himself onto the Angel, and the blast landed on the other side of the Geofront with a loud explosion. It began twisting gyroscopically to launch the _Wien_ off, but it was stopped in its tracks by a skewering poleaxe. Reidun had joined the fight.

Unfortunately, although the poleaxe had penetrated deep enough to hit the core, it was misaligned and the shaft missed it by a few feet. The Angel zoomed away from Reidun and up. Siegfried clung to its top, being sure to avoid placing any body parts above the top vertex. He dug his fingers into the surprisingly pliant flesh and skewered the Angel under the top vertex with the shaft of his poleaxe.

When the Angel was near the top of the Geofront, Siegfried's efforts to hold on became for naught. The octahedron expelled the poleaxe, leaving him hanging by one hand. Then it activated its AT Field. In a burst, the _Wien_ was pushed above the Angel, resting on thin air. Its top vertex began glowing, and the AT field cupped to hold him straight above it. Siegfried jumped out, landing on his feet but with enough force to twist both of his ankles. The Angel flipped upside down, its glowing vertex facing straight down. Siegfried and Reidun both activated their AT Fields in anticipation.

The Angel fired. Siegfried tried to limp away, but he was too slow and it landed on his AT Field. He tried to resist, but after only a few seconds the beam shot through, incinerated his right leg, and dug 40 feet into the ground. It hurt like nothing had ever hurt before, at least for the first few seconds. Then he couldn't feel it at all. It had disintegrated.

Siegfried bawled his eyes out. "God - Why!" he yelled. He didn't even notice the follow-up beam the Angel was charging.

Reidun grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the blast's way. She hoisted Siegfried on her back and made a run for the hill. When she was behind it, she pulled the _Wien_ to the _Trent_ 's face and looked into it.

Siegfried looked into the _Trent_ 's narrow face and for some reason saw exactly what Reidun wanted to tell him. She was going to try to leap up to the Angel and stick it through the core. She needed his EVA to help her launch with the AT-field, and to take a beam meant for her. For some reason he nodded.

Reidun dropped Siegfried off at the top of the hill. He stood on his hands and knees, like a three-legged table. At this point the abbot's son began to feel his leg again. This sensation took the form of sudden, overwhelming pain. He pounded the earth; he cried out. Nothing would make the pain better. And then he noticed the brilliant glow on the Angel's bottom vertex.

Now, at last, Siegfried could say he was truly doomed. Why had the fight gone so much against him? Was it the wine; was Reidun right about that? Had he made overly rash decisions? Yes, he had tried to ride the Angel. But otherwise how could they have touched it in the air? Was it Marcellus's fault? No, his plan would have worked if the Angel hadn't gone through the hole too fast to be intercepted; he couldn't have known the Angel could do that. Which meant it was God's fault. For not letting them know what the Angel could do before they fought it. For putting him in the way of these sea monsters. For creating the Angels in the first place! It was God that created all the animals on the 6th day. What was the point of creating a monster like this?

Then the Angel fired. In a split second, Siegfried began screaming again. But this wasn't a scream of pain or a scream of fear. It was a scream of anger, yelled by a person who believed that his life could be saved only by the volume of his voice. Siegfried threw everything he had into an AT field. The beam impacted against the shield futilely at first, but its power only increased. But after two seconds, the AT field was beginning to falter. And then the pressure was relieved.

Was the Angel's beam over? No, Reidun was to credit. She was projecting her AT field over Siegfried's as she rushed over with poleaxe in hand. She jumped into the beam, aiming for Siegfried. He couldn't help but wonder if she was sober like she'd said. Nevertheless, he sent his AT field upwards in a pulse at the moment she landed on it. The beam now flowed through without interdiction. The fluid of the Cord became hotter and hotter, and the EVA's skin self-ignited. Leaping off the AT field, and protecting herself with her own, Reidun progressed upward through the beam. Just as her own field began to falter, she drove her poleaxe into the Angel's bottom vertex. The beam lost coherence, sending smaller but destructive rays all over the geofront. Another push, and the spike of the poleaxe popped the Angel's core. At last, the beam stopped entirely. Reidun threw the poleaxe and the Angel it was stuck in aside.

Siegfried couldn't believe it. His EVA's leg was gone, and its lungs were filling with blood. Most of its skin was on fire, and all of his was scalded. But the Angel was dead. The _Trent_ , singed and wounded, landed on the _Wien_ 's abdomen, and Siegfried finally blacked out. If his EVA was in a better shape it would have gone berserk.

[1] The Ottoman military maintained a number of auxiliary forces on the frontiers. The Akıncı were a group of registered raiding clans in the Balkans numbering around 50,000, recruiting volunteers on their own initiative. They paved the way for Ottoman conquest by pillaging areas, on the proceeds of which they paid tax to the central government. Additionally they provided intelligence, served as a vanguard, and harassed enemy units. The Ottoman government tried to keep a rein on the larger groups and harness their raids to their operations, but the smaller groups were too hard to keep track of. These Haramis, or Bandits, were groups of less than 100 that were given free rein in exchange for paying taxes and coordinating with regional akıncı officers.

Akıncıları eventually fell out of favor by the late 16th century for several reasons. The first is that they were politically unreliable, intervening in every single Ottoman succession conflict over the period of their existence. The second is that the establishment of fortified military frontiers on the Habsburg borders reduced the effectiveness of their raids. The third is that their presence was a negative influence on the discipline of all other troops (Indeed, Ottoman commanders always sought to keep the akıncı away from the rest of the army). And the fourth is that the Crimean Tatars began sending large expeditionary forces to Ottoman wars. These expeditions could number in the tens of thousands, and they performed the Akıncıs' job better than they did. For peacetime raiding, provincial governors began to raise Deli units which were only loyal to the governor. These were easier to coordinate, did a fine job of raiding, and were more usable on the battlefield. In 1595 they were decimated at the battle of Yergöğü, where Koca Sinan Pasha forced them to cross the Danube last so as to ensure the escape of the rest of his army from a renegade Wallachian ambush. The Akıncı never recovered.

Gönüllü were volunteers recruited in times of emergency by provincial governors in return for a salary or a Timar fief. If not enough volunteers were recruited, one in every five households would have to provide conscripts (Beşli) whom would serve without pay or a promise of a fief.

[2] Kazan and Astrakhan were Islamic khanates historically conquered by Russia in the 1550s. They were minor powers of the region, being subject to the influence of the stronger Muscovite, Crimean, and Nogai powers. In 1554, Russia captured Kazan and placed a puppet in the Astrakhan Khanate. However, their puppet Dervish Ali turned to the Crimeans (backed by the Ottomans) and for this Ivan the Terrible sent troops to depose him and conquer Astrakhan for Russia in 1556. Here, Ivan didn't have the troops to spare, for the Livonian Order collapsed almost immediately after the Act of God (OTL it ceased to exist in 1558). Russia tried to claim the territory, and the Polish-Lithuanian union contested them, so by the time Dervish Ali's treachery became apparent Russia was embroiled in a major ground war. Russia scrounged up a few thousand men in 1557, hoping to be aided by pro-Moscow nobles, but those had already been purged and the Astrakhanis easily fought off the Russians. The Crimeans saw this failure as a sign of weakness and attacked north. Assisted by the Ottomans and Astrakhanis, they liberated Kazan and helped the Poles escape defeat in the war.

Historically, the Ottomans tried to reconquer Astrakhan in 1568 and build a canal between the Volga and Don Rivers. They failed. Although here they have the land for the canal under their allies' control, and the idea has been seriously posited in the Porte, the money has not been forthcoming.

[3] Valladolid was the location of Spain's court until 1561. The capital was moved to Madrid that year so that Felipe II could supervise the construction of El Escorial, a massively expensive palace northwest of Madrid that took 21 years to complete. Here, Felipe II hasn't commissioned El Escorial due to budget constraints, so the capital is still in Valladolid.

[4] Historically, Elizabeth I didn't persecute the Catholics until a papal bull in 1570 declared her a heretical usurper and urged all Catholics to overthrow her. In Evangelizare Jadid, she soured on the Catholics earlier. In 1560, after the dust from the Act of God had settled, the Catholic Church declared that the incident was the fault of traitorous protestant rulers that had led their people to reject the Church. They provided a list of these rulers, on which Elizabeth was included at Spanish request. She was understandably livid, especially since she hadn't even been Queen when the disaster struck.

[5] The telescope wouldn't be invented for another few decades, but the basic science and production capabilities to make telescopes were already present in the 1550s so I've allowed the invention of the telescope to be moved up a bit.

[6] Maja von Ibbenbüren = Maya Ibuki

[7] Many Renaissance intellectuals advocated a return to the military methods of the Romans, especially Italians. This strain of thought is very apparent when reading the military works of Machiavelli.

[8] In the deuterocanonical Book of Judith, the titular character decapitates the Assyrian general Holofernes in his sleep after inducing him to drink far too much wine.

[9] The Angel seen here is mostly like Ramiel, but somewhat weaker. Although this concept was never demonstrated in Evangelion, I presume that the strength of his beam is dependent on the amount of time it is charged.


End file.
